!_JJE_/ 


GIFT  O 


<XOOTW/ 


c 


YALE  YARNS 

SKETCHES   OF  LIFE   AT   YALE 
UNIVERSITY 


BY 
JOHN  SEYMOUR   WOOD 

AUTHOR  OF  "  GRAMERCY  PARK,"  UAN  OLD  BEAU,"  ETC. 


"A  college  joke  to  cure  the  dumps." 

DEAN  SWIFT 


ILLUSTRATED 


G.  P.   PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW   YORK  LONDON 

27   WEST   TWENTY-THIRD    STREET          24    BEDFORD    STREET,    STRAND 

Cbe  "fcnicfeerbocfcer  press 
1895 


COPYRIGHT,  1895 

BY 
JOHN  SEYMOUR  WOOD 


Ube  'Rntchcrbocher  press,  l^ew  SJorfc 


TO 

HENRY    E.    ROWLAND 
YALE  '54 


iii 


292101 


PREFACE. 


THE  difficulty  of  suiting  every  one  in  a  col 
lege  story  is  greater  than  the  casual  reader 
may  imagine.  Aside  from  the  cheek  of  the 
young  maiden  which  may  not  be  incarnadined 
under  any  consideration,  and  the  maiden  aunt 
who  sees  an  utter  lack  of  refinement  in  the 
daily  student  life,  there  is  the  old  grad.  who 
says  it  is  n't  as  it  was  in  his  day,  and  the 
undergrad.  who  maintains  it  is  n't  as  it  is  in 
his  !  If  you  describe  the  life  of  the  "  rowdy 
element,"  you  may  offend  the  "  digs  "  ;  if  you 
confine  yourself  to  the  "  better  element  " — 
the  good  boys — the  "  earnest  workers,"  the 
smart  young  Junior  asks  if  you  are  describing 
life  in  a  State  Normal  school  or  a  female  re 
formatory  ;  if  you  poke  fun  at  the  faculty  you 
have  a  fine  array  of  parents  and  guardians 
about  your  ears  ;  if  you  tell  of  things  that 
happened  in  your  day,  the  Courant  and  witty 


vi  Preface. 

little  Record  show  you  up  for  an  absurd  old 
fossil  who  ought  to  have  sense  enough  to  stay 
buried  and  not  insist  on  coming  to  life  again  ; 
if  you  are  flippant  or  hint  of  the  seamy  side 
of  college  life,  the  ponderous  old  Lit  may  pro 
nounce  your  effort  worthless  and  condemn  you 
as  the  "  enemy  of  Yale,"— and  if  so,  it  would 
be  better  a  thousand  millstones  were  hanged 
about  your  neck  at  once,  for  the  oldest  and  at 
the  same  time,  the  "youngest"  magazine  in 
America  pronounces  literary  judgments  which 
are  terribly  and  wondrously  final. 

Then  there  arises  the  difficulty  of  slang. 
What  slang  shall  your  college  hero  use? 
Yesterday's,  to-day's,  or  to-morrow's  ?  Much  of 
the  slang  of  four  years  ago  is  dead  now.  Are 
your  stories  up  to  date  ?  If  so  to-day,  they  will 
not  be  next  year.  The  privilege  of  quoting 
from  a  recent  letter  of  an  undergrad.  has  been 
afforded  us.  It  is  apropos  on  this  point.  He 
says  : 

"  To  begin  with,  there  are  nearly  four  varieties  of  slang  used 
m  the  University,— approximately  one  for  each  class      Very 
evident  is  this  when  you  are  in  conversation  with  a  Freshman 
or  what  is  better,  have  the  good  luck  to  overhear  two  of  these 
infants  discoursing  on  college  life.     They  import,  every  year 
the  very  latest  Bowery  style,  and  while  most  of  it  soon  wears 


Preface.  vii 

off,  yet  ear-marks  remain,  and  if  they  strike  the  popular  fancy, 
the  phrase  or  word  is  handed  down  from  class  to  class.  There 
is  no  authentic  '  cuss-word '  as  the  boys  say.  We  suit  the 
word  to  the  action  at  Yale.  In  society  we  use  lamb-like  ex 
pressions  which  would  hardly  be  recognized  on  the  field  or  in 
the  Gym.  The  phrase,  '  Cuss  a  little,  it  may  help  you,'  is  not 
by  any  means  discountenanced.  In  such  cases  we  have  our  pri 
vate  'cuss-words,'  which  vary  from  the  Dwight  Hall  heeler's 
'  goodness  ! '  down  to, — well,  as  far  down  as  they  go.  In  a 
community  as  large  as  this,  there  are  always  a  few  who  at  times 
find  themselves  in  such  peculiar  positions,  that  even  St.  Peter 
himself  would  hardly  know  what  to  do  without  giving  way  a 
little.  Not  since  Freshman  year  have  I  heard  any  low  pro 
fanity,  and  that  was  by  an  intoxicated  person." 

So,  kind,  indulgent  reader,  let  us  offer  our  Yale 
Yarns  as  of  a  date  somewhere  in  the  '90*3,  and 
the  slang  that  occurs  in  them  of  no  particular 
date  at  all.  Many  of  the  sketches  are  founded 
on  fact,  but  whether  fact  or  fancy,  if  they  serve 
to  amuse,  it  is  perhaps  all  that  the  writer,  an 
old  grad.  himself,  can  ask.  It  will  be  seen  that 
very  little  is  said  of  the  athletic  side  of  col 
lege  life, — this  side  is  well  known,  perhaps  too 
much  so,  in  our  daily  press.  One  might  easily 
imagine  from  the  newspapers,  athletics  to  be 
the  sole  occupation  of  students.  In  reality,  as 
things  are  now  constituted,  only  the  few  actively 
engage  in  the  chief  athletic  contests.  The  vast 
array  of  "  rooters,"  "  heelers,"  "  backers,"  etc., 
employ  themselves  while  in  college  in  serious 


viii  Preface. 

and  studious  pursuits,  and  give  vent  to  their 
enthusiasm  only  at  stated  intervals.  It  is  the 
object  of  this  series  of  light  college  sketches,  of 
which  the  first  volume,  Mr.  Post's  Harvard 
Stories,  has  already  become  well  known,  to  pre 
sent  pen  pictures  of  life  in  our  great  universi 
ties,  without  bearing  too  heavily  on  any  one 
particular  class  or  set.  Life  at  Yale  is  too  com 
plex  to  afford  opportunities  in  a  few  stories  of 
giving  more  than  a  brief  account  of  incidental 
phases.  We  cannot  purvey  such  a  complete 
view  as  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford,  or  The  Adven 
tures  of  Verdant  Green,  nor  have  we  attempted 
to  carry  any  one  set  of  men  through  the  four 
years,  as  in  College  Days,  or  Harry  s  Career  at 
Yale, — we  have  simply  gathered  together  and 
written  out  yarns  which  have  been  more  or  less 
known  for  a  long  time,  and  have  never  had  a 
friend  to  give  them  lasting  form.  As  such,  O 
kind,  indulgent  reader,  we  relinquish  them  to 
you,  hoping  that  you  will  enjoy  reading  them 
as  much  as  we  have  putting  them  together. 

J.  S.  W. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

PREFACE       v 

ONE  ON  THE  GOVERNOR I 

THE  OLD  FENCE 20 

IN  THE  POLITICAL  CAULDRON 42 

"  LITTLE  JACK"  HORNER'S  PIE 59 

WITH  THE  DWIGHT  HALL  HEELERS     ....  75 

THE  "  DWARF'S"  PROM 94 

THE  LAST  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  NANCY  BRIG"           .        .  121 

OLD  SLEUTH'S  LEVEL  HEAD 139 

NAT  HALE,  OF '73 156 

THE  DAWN  TEA 175 

THE  GREAT  SPRINGFIELD  GAME 197 

IN  THE  TOILS  OF  THE  ENEMY 2OS 

AN  HYPNOTIC  SEANCE 230 

A  VIOLENT  REMEDY 247 

"  CHUMS  OVER  IN  OLD  SOUTH  " 272 

COMMENCEMENT 294 


ix 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

VANDERBILT  HALL Frontispiece. 

THE  GYMNASIUM  ........       24 

OSBORN  HALL .        .50 

THE  ART  BUILDING      .......       86 

WELCH  HALL 128 

LAWRANCE  HALL 178 


YALE  YARNS. 


ONE  ON  THE  GOVERNOR. 

THEY  were  sitting  in  Sprague  and  Paige's 
room  in  Durfee,  after  supper,  in  the  first  week 
in  October,  smoking. 

It  was  the  very  agreeable  and  comfortable 
twilight  hour  when  even  the  "  greasy  grinds  " 
hardly  felt  it  in  their  hearts  to  begin  the  even 
ing's  cram.  The  crowd  that  made  the  air 
blue  in  the  room  were  anything  but  "  greasy 
grinds."  A  big  wiry  fellow  in  a  white  sweater 
was  lounging  half  out  of  the  window,  talking 
and  laughing  with  some  men  on  the  sidewalk 
below.  Inside  the  room  you  could  cut  the 
smoke  with  a  commons  knife.  Outside,  the 
fading  twilight  made  more  beautiful  and  cathe 
dral-like  the  long  vista  o^f  old  elms  behind  North 
College. 

i 


Yale  Yarns. 


The  evening  was  warm  and  windows  were 
open,  and  festive  sounds  of  the  banjo  floated 
out,  and  there  came  a  tenor  note  far  away  from 
Farnam,  which,  if  not  calculated  to  soothe  a 
soul  in  purgatory,  was  at  least  the  cause  of 
some  sophomore  profanity  and  a  loud  command 
to  the  tenor  to  go  to  a  "worser  place." 

"  Dwarf "  Sprague,  the  big  fellow  in  the 
sweater,  called  down  out  of  the  window : 

"  Jack,  come  up  and  give  us  that  horse  on 
Tom  Keith's, — your  chum's  governor." 

The  man  in  the  window  called  down  again 
and  the  voice  replied  from  below  : 

"  What  horse  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  .know, — about  the  barn  he 
fired " 

"  What  barn  ?  " 

"  Say,  Jack,  you  rascal,  come  up  and  get  a 
good  licking  anyway, — and  tell  us  the  story." 

"Dwarf"  Sprague,  the  big  fellow,  pulled 
himself  inside  the  room  from  the  window,  say 
ing  :  "  '  Little  Jack  '  Horner  is  out  here.  Make 
him  come  up  and  tell  that  horse  on  his  chum's 
dad  last  summer." 

Two  or  three  fellows  lounged  to  the  window 
and  looked  down,  hands  in  pockets. 


One  on  the  Governor.  3 

"  Come  up,  Jack  Homer,"  said  one,  whose 
name,  by  the  way,  is  William.  "  Come  up, 
thou  son  of  a  grad,  and  if  thou  hast  a  horse  on 
thy  dad,  or  thy  chum's  dad,  then  tell  it  !  " 

"  What  was  the  story?"  asked  another. 

"  That  's  what  we  're  trying  to  find  out !  " 
laughed  a  third. 

"  Wait !  I  '11  go  down  and  rush  him  up,  and 
hold  him  till  he  tells  it !  "  said  the  "  Dwarf." 

There  was  a  silence  when  the  "  Dwarf  "  ran 
out  of  the  room,  speedily  interrupted  by  one  at 
the  window  crying : 

"  Dick  Sprague  has  caught  him, — got  him  by 
the  collar  and  scruff  of  the  neck, — and,  by 
Jove !  is  running  him  in  and  up  the  stairs  two 
steps  at  a  time  !  " 

Immediately  after  the  door  burst  open, 
and- 

"  Hullo  Bill— hullo  Tom— hullo  Paige- 
Nelson,  is  that  you  ?"  came  from  "  Little  Jack  " 
Homer's  panting  lips,  as  Sprague,  laughing, 
conducted  him  into  the  room.  "  I  say,  drop  it, 
'  Dwarf '  !  Can't  you  get  over  your  Freshman 
foolishness  ?  I  never  came  up-stairs  so  easily 
though  in  my  life !  I  felt  as  light  as  I  did  in 
the  boat  two  years  ago.  Light  up  here,  some 


4  Vale  Yarns. 

of  you,  and  let  's  see  how  many  chumps  are 
hidden  away  here  in  the  dark  !  '  All  silent  and 
all  damned.' — Tell  me,  is  all  the  class  packed 
in  behind  the  sofa?  Get  up,  '  Lazy  '  Aldrich 
and  shake.  I  can  see  you,  Adolphus  Austin  !  " 

When  the  gas  was  lit,  the  funniest,  fattest, 
smallest,  roundest,  queerest  little  man  in  col 
lege,  appeared  breast  high  to  the  study  table, 
topped  by  a  Y.  U.  B.  C.  cap  on  his  round  little 
head. 

"Little  Jack"  Horner  had  the  honor  of 
steering  Yale  'Varsity  in  great  shape  through  a 
lane  of  yachts  and  booming  cannon  two  years 
before,  because  of  which,  much  was  thereafter 
forgiven  him.  The  little  chap  in  his  Freshman 
year  was  but  a  dot  on  the  landscape,  and 
weighed  but  eighty  pounds.  The  crew  of  that 
year  tossed  him  about  on  rainy  days  instead  of 
a  dumb  bell !  But  once  they  broke  training 
"  Little  Jack "  Horner,  they  say,  actually  fol 
lowed  the  career  of  his  namesake.  He  did 
nothing  ever  after  but 

Sat  in  a  corner 
Eating  his  Xmas  pie. 

"  He    ate  more    pies,    besides,"    said  Paige, 


One  on  the  Governor.  5 

"  everything,  in  fact,  he  could  lay  his  hands  on. 
He  went  off  yachting,  and  they  said  he  'd  dis 
appear  for  hours  and  they  'd  find  him  hiding 
behind  a  cracker  barrel,  munching  away,  with  a 
broad  grin  on  his  face,  and  no  one  knows  how 
much  truck  and  crackers  in  his  little  *  turn.' " 
But  it  may  be  concluded  that  Paige  was 
envious. 

"  He  came  back  to  college  after  the  race," 
continued  Paige,  "and  ate  away  on  the  sly, 
ordering  himself,  say,  a  great  dinner  at  the  New 
Haven  House,  and  then  slipping  off  to  Trae- 
ger's  and  pretending  he  had  n't  dined,  and 
putting  down  a  fresh  brace  of  chops  and  beer. 
When  Captain  Sprague,  of  the  crew,  caught 
him  at  it  one  day  and  admonished  him,  he  said  : 

"  '  See  here,  Cap.,  all  last  year  while  you  fel 
lows  ate  all  the  beef  and  turkey  you  could, — 
and  dined  off  the  very  best  at  the  training- 
table, — you  were  starving  me  !  You  could  see 
through  me, — I  had  a  pane  in  my  stomach 
nearly  all  the  time,  and  you  tried  to  make  me 
a  small  edition  of  the  living  skeleton.  You  go 
find  some  other  fool  of  a  Freshman  coxwain  ! 
I  Ve  coxed  my  last  crew.  You  hear  me ! 
Why,  last  year  every  time  I  looked  at  a  potato, 


6  Yale  Yarns. 

you  gave  me  a  piece — of  your  lip !  And  as  for 
a  pie  or  a  pudding,  or  any  grub  fit  to  eat, — 
Lord  Harry  ! — So,  old  man,  no  more  races  for 
me — Thanks  !  ' 

And  they  could  not  persuade  him. 

At  the  present  time  "  Little  Jack"  Horner  was 
not  in  training,  ate  and  drank  what  he  liked, 
and  he  certainly  liked  a  good  deal,  and  rarely 
was  seen  without  a  large,  gold-tipped  "  Egyptian 
Deity  "  in  his  mouth.  He  edged  himself  up 
on  the  table,  after  a  little  chaffing,  and  told  this 
tale  of  a  grad. : 

"  You  know  my  chum, — Tom  Keith  ?  Well, 
this  horse  is  on  his  awful  dad. 

"  My  chum's  father  is  a  judge  out  in  Michi 
gan.  He  is  an  old  grad.,  and  a  solemn,  pomp 
ous,  dignified  old  grad.  at  that.  When  my 
chum  was  jugged  and  rusticated  last  June,  just 
before  Commencement,  he  came  on  here,  and 
there  was,  I  deeply  regret,  the  devil  to  pay. 

"  You  know  Tom  had  n't  done  anything  very 
much, — only  absorbed  a  little  weak  Soph, 
punch,  and  had  to  go  off  and  paint  tutor  Blink's 
door  red,  and  the  town  afterwards,  and  crook 
signs,  and  all  that.  I  was  with  him,  but  he  got 
caught,  and  I  did  n't.  Poor  chap!  Well, 


One  on  the  Governor.  7 

when  Hon.  Elias  J.  Keith,  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  Michigan,  came  on  here  to  fix  it  up 
with  the  Faculty,  score  my  chum,  and  inciden 
tally  attend  his  class  reunion,  —  there  was 
trouble  enough  over  at  1279,  Lawrance,  and  I 
hung  crape  on  the  door.  How  he  did  bully 
rag  my  poor,  beloved  chum  !  one  of  the  dearest, 
gentlest  chaps  in  the  world,  you  know.  Jeru 
salem  !  he  jawed  right  and  left  and  up  and 
down  for  four  mortal  hours,  and  then  passed 
sentence.  Tom  should  be  cut  down  half  his 
allowance  the  rest  of  his  college  course.  Tom 
should  not  go  abroad  with  the  rest  of  the 
family  last  summer.  Tom  should  be  made  to 
do  this  and  to  do  that, — and  the  name  of 
Keith  was  tarnished  forever, — >and, — well,  poor 
Tom  looked  plowed  enough  to  go  and  jump 
off  long  wharf  at  the  end  of  the  lecture.  When 
he  stopped  for  want  of  breath,  I  asked  the  old 
man,  as  cool  as  I  could  :  '  Judge  Keith, — you 
were  at  Yale,  were  you  not  ? ' 

"  '  I  was,  sir,  in  the  class  of  'umpty-eight ' 

"  And   you   never, — er — got   caught    in    any 
scrape,  I  suppose,  while  you  were  at  Yale?  " 

"  He    gave    me    a    queer    look,    then    said, 
angrily  : 


8  Yale  Yarns. 

"  '  Scrape  ?  I  ?  No,  sir,  and  let  me  tell  you, 
sir-  -' 

"  One  moment, — I  never  have  myself,  but— 
I  may  say,  perhaps  you  and  I  are  more  fortu 
nate — so  you,  too,  were  never  caught  ? 

"  By  Jove,  he  looked  daggers  at  me,  but  he 
said  not  a  word  ;  put  on  his  hat  and  left  the 
room.  Tom  looked  like  a  faded  ghost,  and 
said  he  never  saw  his  governor  so  wholesale 
mad  in  all  his  life  before.  He  wished  I  had 
kept  quiet. 

"  Well, — so  Tom  packed  his  trunk  and  went 
off  to  rusticate  at  New  London — he  did  n't 
mind  that  / — and  I  hung  around  over  Com 
mencement,  just  wondering  how  I  could  get 
even  with  his  awful  dad  in  some  way. 

"  I  hung  around  like  an  old  Gaboriau  detec 
tive,  and  waited, — and  I  kept  my  eye  on  Judge 
Keith.  He  waited,  too,  over  till  the  next  week, 
when  his  class  was  to  have  its  Quinquagenten- 
nial  reunion  dinner, — old  grads.  are  always 
dining  or  being  dined, — or  something  of  that 
sort,  at  Commencement,  and  they  were  to  have 
Judge  Keith  preside,  and  it  was  to  be  a  grand 
affair,  at  three  dollars  a  head,  at  the  New 
Haven  House. 


One  on  the  Governor.  9 

"  Well,  a  lot  of  those  'umpty-eight  men  came 
back  to  college.  Regular  old  fossils  some  of 
'em, — talked  about  loss  of  the  fence, — talked 
about  the  loss  of  the  old  State  House  on  the 
green, — seemed  to  feel  the  Faculty  were  ac 
countable  for  that  too !  I  got  in  with  some  of 
them.  I  drank  with  'em,  treated  'em,  called  my 
self  a  '  'umpty  eater '  too  ;  and,  by  Jove  !  those 
old  cocks  are  right  down  good  smooth  fellows, 
too,  do  you  know  it  ?  I  got  all  the  information 
I  possibly  could  about  Judge  Elias  B.  Keith,  of 
Michigan.  Gad  !  he  stood  fourth  in  his  class, 
he  was  a  sort  of  model, — took  a  philosophical, 
— was  a  regular  plug  in  college, — and  there 
did  n't  seem  to  be  a  flaw  in  him,  and  I  was 
about  giving  up  in  disgust  and  going  down  to 
New  London  to  see  how  the  crew  were  doing, 
when  an  'umpty-eighter,  by  the  name  of — of — I 
forget  his  name — a  Philadelphia  lawyer — but 
he  was  a  hummer,  and  put  down  in  one 
evening,  to  my  actual  count,  five  whiskey  cock 
tails,  six  beers,  three  Manhattans,  and  a  bottle 
of  fizz  at  Traegers, — we  matched  for  this,  and  he 
got  stuck.  I  asked  him  about  the  Judge,  and, 
by  George,  I  struck  it  rich  !  If  he  had  n't  been 
somewhat  jagged,  he  never  would  have  given  it 


io  Yale  Yarns. 

away, — in  vino  veritas,  you  know.  But  he  told 
a  heavy  one  on  Elias  B.  ! 

"  I  said  (call  him  Jones) — I  said,  Mr.  Jones, 
you  get  Judge  Keith  to  tell  that  joke  at 
your  dinner,  will  you?  When  things  get  mel 
low  you  know,  and  you  all  get  reminiscencing. 
Get  him  to  confess  it — 

"  Gad,  I  will  though, — it 's  so  long  since, — 
only  three  of  us  know  it.  I  '11  get  his  old  chum 
now  Rev.  Dr.  Bailey  to  ask  him.  Yes,  it  will 
be  a  good  joke, — we  '11  make  him  confess  it — 
after  all  these  years  !  And  we  '11  have  a  laugh 
on  him — 

"Oh,  it  will  be  excellent,  Mr.  Jones!  And  I 
made  him  shake  on  it  and  promise  he  'd  do  it, 
and  by  Jove,  old  Jones,  was  as  good  as  his 
word,  too,  and  so,  '  he  done  it ! ' ' 

"Little  Jack"  Horner  slapped  his  fat  little 
thigh,  and  rolled  to  and  fro  on  the  table,  con 
vulsed  with  laughter  at  anticipation,  as  he 
spoke. 

"  The  next  night — the  night  of  the  dinner — 
came.  There  were  just  forty-four  old  'umpty- 
eighters  present,  still  able  and  willin'  to  carry  a 
fork  to  their  chins.  I  had  not  been  idle  that 
day  myself,  as  you  will  soon  perceive ;  but  that 


One  on  the  Governor.  1 1 

is  neither  here  nor  there,  as  they  often  say  of 
ja  lost  sparkler. 

"  The  night  of  the  dinner  came.  Fellows, 
they  were  as  smooth  a  looking  set  of  old  men  as 
you  ever  saw  ;  and  Judge  Keith  sat  at  the  head 
of  the  long  table,  proud  as, — proud  as  I  was 
once  in  New  London.  Some  had  bald  heads  ; 
some  had  too  much  hair ;  some  had  whiskers, 
some  had  none  ;  all  were  a  good  sturdy  lot  of 
Yale  grads.  as  you  ever  saw.  I  stood  in  the  door 
way  and  looked  'em  over.  After  they  had  all 
got  seated,  in  strolled  a  long,  lanky,  dusty  hay 
seed  Westerner,  about  seven  feet  high,  in  a  slouch 
hat  and  a  linen  duster,  umbrella,  and  carpet  bag. 
No  one  knew  him,  and  he  marched  right  in 
though,  and  just  called  out  :  *  Is  this  the  class 
of  'umpty-eight  ?  '  They  said  *  Yes,'  and  he  sat 
down  at  the  table  without  a  word.  A  mur 
mur  of  surprise  went  around  the  room,  and  a 
man  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  shouted 
'  Perkins  ? '  and  the  lank  Westerner  said, 
'  Right  !  —  dropped  in  Freshman  year  for 
stealing  the  chapel  Bible  and  exchanging  it 
with  Harvard.'  Then  those  fellows  gave  a 
cheer,  for  Perkins  is  an  M.C.  now,  you  know, 
and  they  had  n't  seen  him  for  years — and 


12  Yale  Yarns. 

the  way  Perkins  set  up  fizz  along  the  table, 
was  a  caution." 

"  We  had  beaten  Harvard  that  afternoon  at 
the  Field,  you  know,  and  they  all  felt  they  had 
done  it,  and  they  were  happy  as  kings,  and  so  I 
let  'em  feed  and  went  off  and  packed  my  trunk 
to  get  away  the  next  day  for  the  races,  and 
again  strolled  in  the  room  where  they  sat  about 
ten  o'clock.  The  speeches  had  just  begun  as  I 
came  in,  and  such  speeches !  Eloquence  cut  no 
ice  at  that  dinner  !  It  was  just  fun  and  give  and 
take,  and  they  got  off  old  jokes  and  sang 
'  Neath  the  Elms  '  and  '  Bingo,'  '  Here's  to 
Good  Old  Yale,'  and  those  old-timers.  And  at 
last  up  gets  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bailey  and  tells  about 
the  Judge, — what  a  great  man  he  was,  and  how 
he  had  risen  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  lawyers  in 
the  West,  and  all  that,  and  how  they  all  knew 
it  would  be  so  when  he  was  in  college,  and 
how  immaculate  and  good  he  had  been, — 
always,  even  in  college — *  I  knew  it,  for  I 
was  his  chum,'  said  Bailey,  '  except  on  one 
occasion  !  ' 

"  By  Jove  !  the  room  was  so  still  you  could 
hear  a  dumb-bell  drop. 

" '  Give  us  that  occasion,'  roared  my  friend 


One  on  the  Governor.  1 3 

Jones  and  others,  as  loud  as  they  could  roar, — 
I  roared  too  to  keep  up  the  excitement. 
I  "  I  stood  near  the  door  and  watched.  Gad  ! 
they  got  the  Judge  up  on  his  feet  to  tell  them ! 
I  beat  my  sides  with  joy  just  then  and  could 
hardly  contain  myself. 

" '  I  suppose  my  old  chum  refers/  said  the 
Judge,  laughing,  *  to  my  attempt  to  steal  a 
turkey,  and  in  doing  so  set  a  barn  afire  ?  ' 

"  To  nearly  all  the  'umpty-eighters  this  came 
with  a  great  shock.  Gee  !  they  broke  out  in 
howls  of  delight,  and  hammered  the  table  with 
their  spoons  and  glasses.  When  it  was  quiet 
again,  Judge  Keith  said,  as  if  very  much  tickled  ; 
'  I  was  very  fortunate  in  that  it  was  never  found 
out  that  I  did  it.  I  went  out  after  turkey, — 
out  here,  away  off  by  West  Rock.  You  can 
believe  I  never  went  near  the  spot  afterwards. 
A  farmer  out  there — I  believe,  if  my  memory 
serves  me  right,  his  name  was  Higgins — Hig- 
gins  was  famous  in  those  days  for  his  fat  tur 
keys,  and  about  Thanksgiving  time — in  my 
Junior  year, — that  was  in  the  fall  of  '67, — it  was 
our  custom  then  to  forage  about  and  capture 
one  or  two  (laughter).  I  got  into  the  barn 
where  the  turkeys  were,  and  it  was  so  dark  I 


14  Yale  Yarns. 

lit  a  match  to  see  which  one  I  should  select. 
Well,  the  match  snapped  and  broke  and  fell  in 
a  pile  of  hay.  In  a  moment  to  my  horror,  it 
was  ablaze !  I  dropped  the  turkey  I  had  seized 
and  ran  like  the  wind  to  where  my  confeder 
ates  were  waiting  for  me  in  a  buggy.  *  Drive 
home  quick  some  roundabout  way !  '  I  said, 
as  I  jumped  in,  '  I  Ve  set  the  barn  afire  ! '  It 
was  a  small  shed — we  would  hardly  call  it  a 
barn  out  in  my  country — no  horses  or  cattle  in 
it,  and  we  drove  off  in  a  hurry.  Pretty  soon 
the  flames  could  be  seen  a  mile  away  over  the 
trees.  Well,  I  imagine  Farmer  Higgins  had 
roast  turkey  that  night,  though  it  must  have 
been  pretty  well  crisped,'  and  the  Judge  sat 
down,  laughing  as  if  he  would  split. 

"  As  the  'umpty-eighters  applauded  and 
laughed,  an  old  man — older  than  any  of  them, 
even, — a  horny-handed  son  of  toil,  with  a  long 
white  beard,  stepped  out  from  a  doorway  and 
waited  until  every  one  became  silent,  then  said, 
in  a  cold  hard  voice,  turning  to  the  Judge  : 

"  '  So  you  be  the  student  feller  what  set  afire 
to  my  turkey  shed,  be  ye?  I  be  Farmer  Hig 
gins,  that  's  who  I  be/ 


One  on  the  Governor.  1 5 

"  The  Judge, — he  turned  all  colors,  but  said 
not  a  word.  I  shook  in  my  shoes. 

"  The  farmer  turned  to  all  the  'umpty-eight- 
ers,  in  midst  of  a  dead  silence. 

" '  I  call  on  ye  all  to  witness  he  confessed 
right  here  he  burned  Farmer  Higgins's  barn  in 
1867.  Now,  I  allus  sed  I  'd  ketch  the  reskell 
student  feller  as  done  it, — an'  now  I  hev.' 

"  The  Judge  rose,  astonished,  very  much  cha 
grined. 

"  '  Oh,  don't  you  say  you  did  n't  or  try  fer  to 
get  aout  the  State ;  if  ye  do  I  '11  jest  hev  ye  ar 
rested,  and  put  through  ;  an*  there  's  an  officer 
outside  as  I  ken  call  handy, — an'  I  've  got  my 
liar  here  too.' 

"  At  these  words,  a  rummy-looking  old  petti 
fogger,  Old  Bum  Busby,  who  hangs  about  the 
City  Hall  and  takes  a  police  '  case '  for  a  drink, 
stepped  forward,  and  in  a  very  solemn  and  im 
pressive  manner,  and  very  husky  voice,  said, 
'  Gents,  thish  is  a  very  serious  case — State- 
prison  offense — arson — first  degree, — while  com- 
mittin'  act  of  robbery,  as  I  meself  heerd  defend 
ant  Keith  confess.' 

"  '  But  it 's  over  twenty  years  ago  ! '  exclaimed 


1 6  Yale  Yarns. 

the  Judge,  perspiration  pouring  down  his  brow. 
1  It  's  outlawed.' 

" '  Don't  keer  tuppence  fer  that.  You  Ve 
been  out  the  State  sence.  Jedge  Keith,  as  bein' 
a  liar  yerself  ye'd  orter  know,  statoot  don't  run 
then.  You  '11  hev  to  do  time  fer  it,  sir.  Arson, 
sir.  Bad  sort  of  scrape,  sir.  Would  n't  a 
thought  it  of  you  !  ' 

"  Several  of  the  brash  'umpty-eighters  rose  up 
in  a  state  bordering  on  consternation  and 
wanted  to  throw  the  old  farmer  and  his  lawyer 
out  of  the  window,  but  the  Judge  waived  them 
back.  Some  laughed  at  the  affair  as  a  capital 
joke,  others  shook  their  heads  and  looked 
solemn. 

"  '  At  last  my  sin  has  found  me  out !  '  said  the 
Judge,  gravely,  and  by  Jove,  fellows,  I  felt 
awfully  sorry  then  I  had  put  up  the  grind  on 
him.  He  was  a  sensitive,  scrupulous  sort  of 
man,  and  he  felt  the  disgrace  keenly  there  be 
fore  his  class, — and  they  'd  just  been  trying  to 
guy  him  on  account  of  his  having  a  son  sus 
pended. 

"Then  up  rose  my  friend  Jones.  '  I  begin  to 
smell  a  mice,'  he  laughed.  '  It  was  I  who  told 
this  story  to  a  fat  little  chap — now  in  college, — 


I         One  on  the  Governor.  1 7 

Horner,  by  name  ;  it  's  all  his  doing,  I  believe.' 

"  '  My  son's  chum,'  said  the  Judge,  '  William 
Horner  ! ' 

"'And  he  has  probably  done  this  for  a  joke. 
Come  now,  'Lias,  did  not  you  scold  your  boy 
pretty  well  on  his  being  disciplined  ?  I  under 
stand  so.  This  is  the  way  his  friend  retali 
ates  ! ' 

"Just  about  then  things  were  getting  rather 
hot  and  mixed  and,  I  was  not  wanting  to  have 
my  hair  pulled  particularly  by  those  'umpty- 
eighters,  so  I  slid  out  and  ran  home  to  my  room 
in  Lawrance  and  bolted  the  door. 

"  You  see,  I  'd  fixed  it  with  the  farmer  to 
divvy  up  on  what  he  got  out  of  the  Judge  in 
'  settlement/  would  you  believe  it — the  farmer 
got  $200 ! — and  later,  that  night,  I  sneaked 
out  and  met  him  at  the  pettifogger  Busby's 
office,  and  the  honest  old  chap  acted  on  the 
square,  chuckled  at  the  joke,  and  gave  me  a 
hundred,  and  we  all  went  out  and  had  a  '  bot.' 
I  gave  the  lawyer  twenty-five  dollars,  which 
paid  him  for  his  trouble  and  for  his  services  a 
year  ago,  too,  getting  me  out  of  the  jug — you 
remember  the  time — without  the  Faculty  know 
ing  it,  and  I  carried  the  balance  up  to  New 


1 8  Yale  Yarns. 

London  next  day  and  doubled  it  on  the  race. 
I  gave  the  hundred  and  fifty  to  my  chum  at 
New  London,  and  told  him  to  put  it  on  a  horse 
that  my  old  friend,  the  pettifogger  Busby, 
told  me  over  his  cups  was  sure  to  win  the 
Brooklyn  handicap  that  day  following.  By 
Jupiter!  it  did  !  and  Keith  wrote  his  dad  next 
day — his  dad  had  gone  home — a  sanctimonious 
letter,  enclosed  a  draft  for  two  hundred  dollars, 
what  he  had  paid  Farmer  Higgins,  explaining 
that  he  had  earned  it  by  tutoring  and  he  felt 
that  it  was  but  right  to  pay  it,  and  we  had  over 
three  hundred  dollars  left,  which  we  used  up  in 
Boston,  with  some  jolly,  smooth  Harvard  Wil 
lies,  Jack  Rattleton,  Holworthy,  Stoughton  & 
Company,  in  just  a  week's  time  !  ' 

When  "  Little  Jack  "  Horner  finished,  some 
one  said,  laughing  : 

"  A  good  hoss  on  the  old  grad. !  " 
"  But  that  is  n't  all,  quite"  chuckled  the  lit 
tle  fat  sinner.  "  The  Judge  sent  the  draft  back, 
and  wrote  an  abject  letter  of  apology  for  giving 
Tom  such  a  raking  down,  when  it  was  only 
'boy's  foolishness/  and  said  if  he  'd  not  men 
tion  his  affair  at  home,  he  would  n't  mention 
Tom's  suspension,  and  that  it  was  just  as  well 


\ 

One  on  the  Governor.  \  9 

he  was  rusticated  a  part  of  the  ensuing  fall,  as 
he  would  have  a  longer  period  of  travel  abroad, 
and  they  'd  try  to  get  back  in  time  to  see  the 
game  at  Springfield.  So  my  chum  came  out  all 
right,  you  see,  and  we  put  that  extra  two  hun 
dred  dollars  in  at  Newport  and  the  Pier.  Tom 
Keith  had  just  seventy-five  cents  in  his  pocket 
when  he  met  his  family  on  the  Teutonic,  July 
1 5th,  and  sailed  for  Liverpool." 

"  Little  Jack  "  had  such  a  smirk  of  comfortable 
satisfaction  on  his  fat  little  face  over  his  getting 
even  with  the  old  grad.,  that  "  Dwarf  "  Sprague 
could  not  resist  laying  him  over  his  knee 
(Sprague  was  on  Little  Jack's  famous  crew  and 
always  felt  like  a  father  to  him).  "  You  fat  lit 
tle  tell-tale  !  "  he  cried,  whacking  him.  "  I  '11 
teach  you  to  get  old  grads.  into  trouble !  " 


THE  OLD  FENCE. 

UP  to  the  time  when  the  march  of  improve 
ment  began,  which  has  ended  with  the  beauti 
ful  Vanderbilt  Hall  and  the  complete  enclosure 
of  the  campus,  the  fence,  from  the  path  near 
the  corner  on  College  Street  around  the  corner 
of  Chapel  and  up  to  South  College,  was  the 
one  great  institution  of  Yale.  Tradition  fades 
quickly  in  college,  and  the  student  of  to-day  is 
inclined  to  smile  at  the  expression  of  regret 
for  the  fence's  loss  to  which  the  old  grad.  is  apt 
to  give  vent  on  returning  to  New  Haven. 

There  is  no  loafmg-place  now  for  the  poor 
old  alumnus,  and  he  is  apt  to  wander  about 
staring  vaguely  at  the  new  buildings  and  feeling 
that  Yale  has  gone  ahead  in  a  most  startling 
and  sensational  manner  the  last  ten  years,  and 
left  him  behind  a  forlorn  and  melancholy  relic 
of  the  past. 

Yet  he  is  glad,  too,  to  see  Yale's  material 
progress.  He  is  always  delighted  to  read  of 
20 


The  Old  Fence.  21 

the  latest  princely  benefaction  ;  like  Artemus 
Ward  his  relatives  in  the  war,  he  is  ever  willing 
to  sacrifice  his  brother  alumni,  if  they  will  only 
leave  in  their  wills  a  few  hundred  thousand  to 
Yale.  It  mitigates  the  sadness  of  a  classmate's 
death  to  read  that  his  Alma  Mater  is  often  the 
gainer  by  it.  Dear  old  Bob  Jones  was  the  best 
fellow  that  ever  lived — many  a  rarebit  and  mug 
of  Bass  have  we  had  with  him  at  the  "  Quiet 
House,"  tidily  kept  by  one  Mrs.  Moriarty ; 
many  a  good  time  we  Ve  had  together  at 
Rood's,  at  Gus  Traeger's,  at  Charley  Bradley's, 
but  we  observed  that  in  his  will  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars  goes  to  Yale  on  the 
death  of  his  son  Robert,  Jr.,  and  we  fall  to  won 
dering  (and  hoping?)  whether  Robert,  Jr.,  is  a 
sickly  young  man  ? 

The  dear  old  fence  ! 

On  it  men  crammed  for  recitation  ;  read  the 
newspapers  ;  interchanged  stories  ;  gossiped  ; 
talked  athletics  ;  got  acquainted  ;  sung  songs ; 
flirted  with  passing  girls ;  lived.  The  fence 
over  in  front  of  Durfee  is  something  like  it  in  a 
feeble  sort  of  way,  but  it  's  not  quite  the  same 
thing.  There  was  always  some  wandering  mu 
sician  who  played,  or  a  boot-black  who  shone 


22  Yale  Yarns. 

for  five  cents,  or  an  influx  of  grads.  up  from 
New  York,  or  the  passing  of  a  pretty  girl,  to 
create  a  diversion  on  the  old  fence.  It  was  the 
centre  of  the  good-hearted,  manly,  democratic 
Yale,  and  when  it  was  taken  away  there  were 
many  forebodings  by  the  grads.  as  to  the  future 
character  of  Yale  life.  So  far  the  prophecy  of 
the  encroachment  of  moneyed  aristocracy  is 
hardly  borne  out.  The  college  still  preserves 
the  character  of  twenty  years  ago  in  its  regard 
for  a  purely  democratic  standard  of  manliness 
and  worth.  The  rich  man's  son  has  still  to 
fight  his  own  battles,  and  frequently  to  over 
come  a  certain  democratic  prejudice  against 
him.  He  succeeds,  in  spite  of  his  income,  and 
his  friends  like  him  only  because  he  acts  and 
carries  himself  like  a  man. 

The  Hon.  W.  D.  Horner,  of  'umpty-three — 
"  Little  Jack's  "  father  came  on  for  a  few  days 
last  May,  to  see  his  son,  and  had  a  great  deal  to 
say  about  the  absence  of  the  fence.  He  growled 
a  good  deal  at  first  over  Osborne  Hall — said 
the  fence  was  worth  a  dozen  of  such  ornate  ex 
amples  of  Rococo  and  the  Renaissance.  He 
had  n't  been  back  since  his  class  reunion  in  '83. 
He  growled  a  good  deal  about  the  death  of 


V 

The  Old  Fence.  23 

Linonia  and  Brothers,  too,  but  that  was  too 
much  out  of  date  for  rhyme  or  reason,  and 
they  laughed  at  him. 

They  got  the  old  grad.  to  telling  some  old 
fence  reminiscences  one  night  at  Mory's  (he 
declared  Mory's  was  n't  like  the  old  "  Quiet 
House  "  on  Court  Street  in  the  faintest  degree). 
Among  them  were  the  following  yarns  which 
were  gathered  and  written  out  by  Paige  after 
wards  : 

"  In  my  day  no  peeler  was  allowed  inside  the 
yard,  and  to-day  I  saw  one  hanging  about — on 
the  old  chapel  steps  !  I  don't  like  that  /  Many 's 
the  time  we  used  to  be  chased  by  peelers  until 
we  got  to  the  campus,  then  we  jumped  the  fence 
and  defied  them  to  come  on.  They  did  n't  dare, 
in  my  day,  to  go  inside. 

"  Freshmen  were  n't  allowed  on  the  fence 
until  they  reached  third  term,  but  the  biggest 
fight  I  ever  saw  arose  out  of  our  class  seizing, 
in  winter  term,  Fresh,  year,  the  fence  and  hold 
ing  it.  Freshmen  sat  on  the  College  Street  side 
only.  If  they  tried  to  sit  on  the  Soph,  fence, 
they  were  rolled  in  the  mud,  and  promptly 
punished  for  their  presumption. 

"  Oh,  there  are  lots  of  queer  things  which 


24  Yale  Yarns. 

happened  on  and  about  the  fence.  I  wish  I 
could  recall  more  of  them.  One  night  about 
twenty  New  Haven  girls  dressed  up  as  men 
took  possession  of  the  Junior  fence.  They 
carried  canes,  wore  high  hats,  and  tried  to  smoke 
cigarettes.  The  boys  found  them  out  and  then 
there  was  fun  !  The  whole  college  got  out  after 
a  while  and  built  them  a  bonfire,  and  escorted 
them  home. 

"  Then,  at  the  fence,  the  Glee  Club  used  to 
make  its  first  public  appearance  at  night.  The 
New  Haven  House  windows  were  crowded 
with  people.  A  bouquet  or  even  a  flower 
thrown  out  of  a  window  was  grabbed  for  by 
the  students  with  the  avidity  street  arabs 
grab  for  pennies.  Sometimes  they  'd  throw 
cabbages ! 

"  I  remember  when  the  Freshmen  of  'umpty- 
two,  enraged  at  not  being  allowed  the  fence, 
tore  the  whole  thing  down  and  carried  it  off  up 
Prospect  Street  one  rainy  night,  and  in  the 
morning  there  wasn't  a  trace  of  it,  not  even 
gate-posts !  The  Faculty  made  them  rebuild  it 
at  their  own  expense.  It  was  set  afire  hundreds 
of  times.  '  Umpty-nine's  boys  had  a  canvas 
canopy  built  over  it  in  their  Junior  year,  for 


The  Old  Fence.  2  5 

rainy  days,  but  the  Faculty  made  them  take  it 
down. 

"  In  1870,  I  think  it  was,  the  Sophs,  ran  an 
electric  wire  along  the  Freshman  fence  and  gave 
them  a  tremendous  shock  one  evening.  The 
Freshmen  got  even  by  sawing  the  Soph,  fence 
so  that  it  went  down  with  them  when  they  were 
roosting  on  it. 

"  I  never  shall  forget  the  scare  the  Sophs,  put 
up  one  evening  on  the  whole  college.  It  was  a 
warm  June  evening  and  every  one  was  out  on 
the  fence  after  supper,  smoking,  singing,  and 
enjoying  the  air.  Suddenly  we  heard  the  awful 
cry  of  *  Mad  dog  !  Mad  dog  '  coming  up  from 
down  Chapel,  and  a  big  lean  hound,  foaming  at 
the  mouth,  came  tearing  along  up  the  street. 
You  ought  to  have  seen  that  fence  scatter ! 
Some  ran  as  far  as  North  College.  The  dog 
kept  right  on  up  Chapel  and  disappeared  up 
York,  evidently  having  business  of  it's  own 
somewhere  in  the  suburbs.  Tied  to  its  tail  was 
a  white  flag  with  the  Soph,  numeral  on  it. 
They  'd  made  the  dog  chew  soap  like  a  tragedy 
actor.  There  was  a  great  laugh  all  over  college 
over  that  mad  dog.  The  Sophs,  set  up  a  couple 
of  kegs  of  beer  on  it  and  were  forgiven. 


26  Yale  Yarns. 

"  The  only  distinct  romance  I  ever  heard 
about  the  fence  was  told  me  by  Suydam,  of  '  59 
—a  true  story. 

"  There  was  a  daughter  of  a  New  Haven 
gentleman  (who  is  dead  now),  who  was  a  very 
beautiful  girl.  She  was  the  toast  of  the  college 
in  those  days,  and  all  the  students  were  wild 
over  her — especially  the  Southerners,  who  were 
numerous  in  those  days  before  the  war.  I  Ve 
forgotten  her  name  now,  but  will  call  her  Ma 
rion  Brown  for  want  of  a  better. 

"  She  used  to  drive,  herself,  a  pair  of  lively 
black  horses  in  a  phaeton,  and  you  may  believe 
she  very  often  turned  the  corner  of  Chapel  and 
College,  and  gave  many  a  smile  and  a  bow  to  her 
friends  among  the  students,  who  were  seated 
on  the  fence. 

"  One  day  as  she  drove  past  the  colleges,  a 
contemptible  Freshman  let  off  a  huge  cannon- 
cracker  under  her  carriage ;  the  horses  took 
fright,  and  Marion,  not  wishing  to  run  away 
down  College  or  Chapel,  pulled  them  squarely 
into  the  fence.  Jim  Thompson  was  sitting 
there  and  made  a  dash  for  the  horses'  bits,  but 
was  carried  under  and  trampled  on.  Marion 
was  thrown  out  and  they  picked  her  up  without 


The  Old  Fence.  27 

a  scratch.  Thompson  was  badly  hurt  and  had 
a  leg  broken.  Well,  she  insisted  on  his  being 
taken  home  to  her  father's  house,  where  she 
nursed  him,  and  now  they  're  married  and  have 
a  son  in  Sheff." 

Mr.  Horner  lit  a  fresh  cigar  —  and  con 
tinued  : 

"  There  was  a  time  during  a  revival,  along  in 
the  early  '  /o's,  when  the  class  deacons  made 
the  fence  the  centre  of  a  noonday  open-air 
prayer-meeting.  This  was  finally  broken  up  by 
a  few  wicked  Sophs,  who  exploded  cannon- 
crackers  and  hired  a  brass  band  to  play  waltzes 
at  the  same  time,  and  the  deacons  had  to  retire, 
discomfited. 

"  Oh,  the  fence  \vas  always  the  centre  of 
things  in  the  old  times,  from  religion  to  the 
worship  of  Bacchus.  Along  about  twelve  and 
one  o'clock  at  night  and  later,  many  a  night 
have  parties  of  students,  after  a  wine  supper  at 
Bradley's,  or  an  ale  party  at  Mory's,  or  a  '  beer 
or  two  '  at  Gus  Traeger's,  made  the  night  hid 
eous  at  the  fence,  with  songs  and  skylarking. 
They  used  to  have  tight-rope  performances  on 
it,  and  set  it  on  fire,  and  paint  it  with  tar  and 
red  paint,  and  do  pretty  much  everything  they 


28  Yale  Yarns. 

could  to  it — and  students  always  were  pretty 
versatile  in  such  matters. 

"  I  remember  a  story  of  a  tramp  when  Pro 
fessor  S —  -  was  in  college.  He  and  several 
classmates  had  been  down  to  Mory's,  and  when 
they  got  back  to  the  fence,  about  twelve  one 
night,  they  fell  in  with  an  old  tramp  sitting 
there,  and  had  some  fun  with  him.  They 
could  n't  get  the  old  hobo  to  leave  and  go  off 
to  bed.  He  just  sat  there  and  would  n't  budge. 
They  pulled  him  off  several  times,  but  it  did  n't 
do  any  good.  He  said  '  he  wanted  to  hear  de 
birds  sing  in  the  morning,  and  see  de  sun  rise, 
and  he  was  just  going  to  sit  dere  and  smoke  a 
pipe  and  wait  fer  de  morning.' 

"  Finally,  they  all  went  off  and  left  him 
alone,  sitting  there  'just  thinking,'  he  said, 
*  and  waiting  for  de  morn  to  come.'  Then  one 
of  the  students,  on  getting  to  his  room,  found  a 
cannon  cracker  and  they  thought  they  'd  go 
and  let  it  off  just  underneath  the  old  hobo, 
and  see  if  he  would  n't  move  on. 

"  So  they  got  the  fire  cracker,  and  stole  up 
noiselessly  where  he  was  sitting  and  lit  the 
fuse,  and  stole  away  and  hid  behind  the  elms 
and  waited  for  results. 


The  Old  Fence.  29 

"  The  old  tramp  sat  with  his  head  bowed  on 
his  hands,  motionless,  in  just  the  same  attitude 
in  which  they  had  left  him,  *  waiting  fer  de 
morn.' 

"  Well,  the  cannon  cracker  went  off  like  blazes 
and  made  a  devil  of  a  noise  and  shook  the 
whole  college  like  an  earthquake  (it  was  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning),  and  many  a  pale  and 
frightened  tutor  leaped  from  his  bed,  and 
rushed  to  the  window  in  the  old  brick  row  to 
see  what  was  up. 

"  But  the  old  tramp  just  sat  there,  pipe  in 
mouth,  and  did  n't  move.  The  cracker  nearly 
set  his  ragged  coat-tails  on  .fire,  but  he  did  n't 
seem  to  notice  it  at  all. 

"  They  went  up  stealthily  and  shouted  in  his 
ear.  He  did  n't  turn  his  head.  They  shook 
him  and  then  drew  back,  horrified  and  aghast. 
The  old  tramp  was  dead  ! 

"  They  felt  of  him, — he  was  cold  ;  and  they 
felt  relieved  to  find  his  sudden  taking  off  was 
not  due  to  their  nonsense  ;  and  then,  scared  at 
what  had  happened,  they  ran  off  to  their  rooms, 
leaving  him  there  on  the  Senior  fence,  dead, 
still  sitting  and  waiting  for  the  morn  to  come." 

There  was  a  silence  as  the  old  grad.  finished 


30  Yale  Yarns. 

this  last  yarn,  and  then  "  Little  Jack  "  said,  in 
his  inimitable  way  :  "  And  what  did  the  Faculty 
say  in  the  morning?  " 

"  My  son,  they  decided  the  old  tramp  was 
fitted  to  enter  the  medical  school,  and  up  there 
on  York  Street  they  gave  him  a  post-mortem 
examination  !  /  understand  he  passed  it  suc 
cessfully  !  " 

After  the  smiles  at  his  gruesome  jest  had 
subsided,  Mr.  Horner  told  this  further  little 
yarn  of  the  old  fence  : 

"  In  those  days  when  I  was  in  college,  the 
crew  used  to  train  very  differently  from  the 
way  they  do  now.  The  work  was  much  more 
severe.  The  diet  was  principally  raw  beef. 
They  drank  only  a  half  pint  of  water  a  day,  at 
noon  ;  no  ale  or  beer,  and  kept  at  work  almost 
all  their  waking  hours.  One  of  the  first  things, 
when  they  arose  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
was  to  run  at  top  speed  fifty  times  up  and  down 
their  entries,  from  top  to  bottom,  '  to  get  their 
hearts  working.'  It  made  brutes  of  those  it 
did  n't  kill.  They  trained  as  if  for  a  prize  fight, 
running  sometimes  twelve  or  eighteen  miles  a 
day,  and  rowing  as  much  again. 

"  Well,  Hardwell  was   captain  one  year,  and 


The  Old  Fence.  31 

he  was  a  wiry  old  soldier,  without  any  soft  spot 
about  him.  He  was  about  thirty  years  old, 
and  had  been  a  scout  on  the  plains  until  he 
struck  it  rich  in  a  Colorado  mine  and  came  on 
East  to  be  educated.  He  was  a  terror,  and 
with  all  his  rigor  and  vigor,  he  ruined  his  crew 
by  overwork,  and  Harvard  beat  us  that  year 
by  over  a  minute. 

"  There  was  one  thing  he  did  believe  in  — 
whiskey,  and  the  crew  got  all  of  that  they 
needed,  and,  of  course,  it  was  not  the  best  thing 
for  them, — raw  whiskey.  It  made  them  all 
look  like  thin  red  crows  most  of  the  time.  Raw 
meat  and  whiskey  would  spoil  any  crew,  and 
yet  old  Captain  Hardwell  had  the  entire  confi 
dence  of  the  college.  They  knew — we  all 
knew — he  was  faithful  and  hardworking  and 
anxious  to  win,  and  so  mad  when  licked  the 
summer  previous  that  he  offered  to  take  a 
bowie  knife  and  go  alone  over  to  Harvard's 
quarters  on  Lake  Quinsigamond,  and  '  venti 
late  '  their  stomachs  one  by  one,  in  the  most 
blood-curdling  Western  style  !  He  was  a  sort 
of  college  hero  in  his  day  and  generation,  and 
he  knew  less  about  rowing  than  I  do  about 
algebra.  He  knew  a  great  deal  about  disci- 


32  Yale  Yarns. 

pline,  and  mortifying  the  flesh,  and  hard  work 
and  little  sleep,  and  making  everybody  who 
differed  with  him  feel  the  weight  of  his  fist 
too. 

"  Well,  the  fierce  old  martinet  was  sitting  on 
the  fence  one  night,  and  some  busybody  came 
and  told  him  that  two  of  the  crew  were  out 
walking  with  a  couple  of  shop  girls,  and  old 
Hardwell  swore  a  mighty  oath. 

"  '  What  the  blankety  blank  do  they  want  to 
go  and  soften  'emselves  up  with  girls  for,  and 
the  race  only  three  weeks  off  ! ' 

"  Then  he  got  down  off  the  fence  and  strode 
off  to  his  room,  and  they  knew  something  was 
in  the  wind, — something  alarming. 

"  The  next  morning,  those  going  to  breakfast 
early  saw  a  sight.  Captain  Hardwell  tarred 
and  feathered  and  tied  to  the  Soph,  fence, 
where  he'd  been  nearly  all  night ! 

"  When  released,  he  said  nothing,  but  went 
straight  to  his  room,  got  off  what  tar  he  could, 
packed  his  grip  and  got  out  of  New  Haven  by 
the  first  train  and  never  showed  up  there  again. 
No,  never  has  been  here  since,  either. 

"  It  seems  he  went  to  his  room  on  hearing 
about  the  members  of  the  crew  flirting  with 


The  Old  F^nce.  33 

shop  girls,  and  got  down  his  heavy  army  re 
volver,  loaded  it  and  started  out  for  bear.  He 
hunted  the  men  and  their  girls  down,  and  it 
turned  out  they  were  n't  shop  girls  at  all,  but 
sisters  of  one  of  the  men.  They  were  walking 
and  chatting  in  York  Square  when  the  Captain 
'  caught '  them.  And  then  and  there  he  gave 
them  a  powerful  tongue  lashing,  interspersed 
with  certain  cursory  matter,  which  will  naturally 
not  bear  repeating.  Well,  being  before  the 
two  girls  who  were  frightened  nearly  to  death, 
the  two  crew  men  were  driven  to  fury.  The 
Captain  made  them  leave  the  girls  and  go  back 
to  college  and  then  go  straight  to  bed.  He 
literally  drove  them  down  the  street,  flourishing 
his  revolver,  and  stood  over  them  too  until  they 
ducked  under  their  coverlids. 

"  Well,  when  the  storm  subsided  and  he  went 
off  to  bed,  the  entire  crew  got  up  about  mid 
night  and  went  to  his  room,  overpowered  the 
old  cuss,  carried  him  bodily  down  to  the  fence, 
and  lashed  him  to  it  so  tight  he  couldn't  move. 
Then  they  heated  some  tar  and  poured  it  all 
over  him.  You  see,  they  got  so  sick  of  his 
tyranny  they  could  n't  endure  it  any  longer. 
When  Hardwell  left,  they  elected  another  man 

3 


34  Yale  Yarns. 

captain,  but  it  was  too  late  in  the  season  and 
Harvard  beat  us  again  that  year,  just  the  same. 

"  Oh,  there  are  a  lot  more  yarns  about  the 
fence,"  said  the  old  grad.,  yawning,  "  but  I've 
forgotten  them.  It  was  a  great  institution,  in 
the  old  days. 

"  I  remember  once,  before  the  new  buildings 
had  been  put  up  to  spoil  the  Campus,  and  be 
fore  the  days  of  peelers,  and  while  the  old 
stucco  State  House  still  stood  in  all  its  beauti 
ful  Grecian  simplicity  of  outline  on  the  green, 
a  joke  played  on  an  old  farmer,  who  evidently 
was  from  up  the  country  somewhere  and  had 
no  suspicions  of  the  student  capacity  for  play 
ing  pranks. 

"  You  see,  the  old  hayseed  had  imagined  he 
had  a  perfect  right  to  hitch  his  .team  to  our 
fence,  a  sacrilege  which,  as  soon  as  we  got  out 
of  morning  recitation,  we  Sophs,  were  not  slow 
to  marvel  at,  and  punish. 

"  What  dire  fate  should  overtake  that  team 
of  roan  and  piebald  old  farm  horses,  who  had 
already  dared  to  nibble  the  top  round  of  our 
fence  while  their  owner  had  gone  off  about  his 
business  ?  How  should  justice  be  meted  out  to 
that  old  farmer? 


The  Old  Fence.  35 

"  We  thought  of  many  plans,  to  load  the 
wagon  with  hay  and  set  fire  to  it ;  to  hitch  the 
team  in  again  backwards,  and  put  the  cart  be 
fore  the  horse  ;  or  to  paint  one  horse  red  and 
the  other  blue,  but  at  last  Jim  Hayward,  the 
poet  of  our  class,  and  a  man  of  the  most 
brilliant  imagination,  hit  on  this  scheme,  which 
we  carried  out  to  the  letter. 

"  We  drove  that  piebald  and  roan  team  over 
near  the  State  House  and  unhitched  it. 

"  The  building  was  not  in  use  at  the  time, 
and  a  flight  of  broad  stairs  led  up  all  the  way 
to  the  very  roof,  which  was  nearly  flat  and 
covered  with  slate. 

"  Well,  we  led  those  old  farm  horses  one  by 
one  up  the  stairs, — don't  look  surprised,  horses 
will  go  up-stairs  with  great  ease  ;  it's  just  the 
opposite  with  horses  as  it  was  with  the  man  in 
Virgil  who  found  it  so  easy  to  descend  to 
Avernus ;  you  can't  get  a  horse  down-stairs 
very  well,  but  it  is  a  pleasant  pastime  to  lead 
him  up.  Well,  we  led  those  horses  one  by  one 
up  and  on  the  roof  of  the  State  House.  Yes, 
sir  ;  if  you  don't  believe  it,  go  get  me  a  notary  ! 

"  Then  we  took  that  wagon  apart  and  carried 
it  all  up,  piece  by  piece,  and  set  it  up  again  on 


36  Yale  Yarns. 

the  roof  and  hitched  the  piebald  and  roan 
horse  to  it  and  tied  them  to  a  chimney ;  then 
we  came  down  and  lay  low  for  the  farmer  when 
he  should  come  back  and  get  his  team. 

"  I  never  saw  anything  so  absurd  in  my  life  ; 
there,  up  in  the  air,  sixty  feet  or  so  above 
ground,  on  that  flat  slate  roof,  stood  that  old 
roan  and  piebald  team,  as  natural  as  life,  just  as 
though  they  belonged  up  there,  hitched  to  a 
chimney  ! 

"  People  stopped  and  stared  at  the  team,  and 
rubbed  their  eyes  to  see  if  they  were  really 
awake  and  not  dreaming  !  A  great  crowd  be 
gan  to  gather.  We  lay  down  in  the  grass  on 
the  Campus,  behind  the  elms — we  had  grass  in 
those  days, — and  rolled  about  dead  tired,  but 
well  pleased  with  the  joke.  We  were  laying 
for  the  hayseed  farmer  to  come  back  and  look 
for  his  team.  I  may  say  we  were  pretty  tired, 
too,  for  it  was  hard  work  getting  the  farm 
wagon  up  there,  and  putting  it  together  again, 
and  it  was  a  warm  June  day. 

"  Presently  up  he  came  from  Chapel  Street, 
— a  horny-handed,  long-bearded  old  fellow,  with 
a  slouch  hat  and  long  linen  duster  on,  and  his 
trousers  tucked  into  his  boot  tops.  He  was 


The  Old  Fence.  3  7 

walking  a  little  unsteadily  as  he  came  up,  and 
we  could  see  the  neck  of  a  black  bottle  protrud 
ing  from  one  of  the  side  pockets  of  his  duster. 
Evidently  the  long  time  he  had  been  absent, 
— some  two  hours, — was  accounted  for  by  his 
attendance  at  the  shrine  of  Bacchus.  He 
stared  about  vacantly  a  minute — '  Say,  boys, 
seen  anythin'  o'  my  team  I  tied  ter  the  fence 
yere  ? '  he  asked. 

"  '  What  team  ?  '  said  I. 

"  '  Why,  a  piebald  an'  roan  hoss,  an'  waggin. 
Tied  right  yere  to  this  fence.' 

"  '  Why,  it  seems  to  me  I  did  see  a  team  ; 
piebald,  you  say  ?  ' 

"  *  Yes,  piebald  and  roan.' 

"  '  Was  it  your  team  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  yes  ;  come  in  fro'  the  farm  with  a 
load  of  potatys.  Wonder  if  they  got  onhetched 
and  wandered  off  somewheres  ?  ' 

"  '  You  say  piebald  and  roan  horse  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes.' 

" '  I  did  see  a  team  going  off  by  themselves 
over  to  the  State  House.' 

"  '  Why,  that  's  'em  ;  State  Hus',  ye  say  ?  ' 

"'Yes.' 

"The  farmer  wandered  over  in  that  direction 


38  Yale  Yarns. 

himself,  and  we  followed  him  to  see  the 
sport. 

"  By  this  time  several  hundred  people  had 
gathered,  staring  up  at  the  team  on  the  State 
House.  Street  gamins  were  shouting  and  jeer 
ing  ;  old  men  were  discussing  it,  astonished  ; 
ladies  stopped  in  their  carriages  and  wondered. 
The  whole  college  came  out  to  see  the  fun,  and 
the  farmer  alone  in  all  that  crowd  had  not 
caught  sight  of  his  team. 

"  '  Seen  my  team,  folks  ?  '  he  asked.  *  Pie 
bald  and  roan  ? ' 

"  Then  he  glanced  up  at  the  State  House, 
and  may  I  die  if  I  ever  saw  a  human  being  so 
utterly  knocked  silly  ! 

"  There  stood  the  team  of  old  nags,  half 
asleep,  quietly  tied  to  the  chimney,  as  if  it  was 
the  most  proper  place  for  them  in  the  world ! 
It  seemed  too  positively  absurd  to  be  true ! 

"  Well,  the  farmer  just  stared  at  his  team  for 
fully  five  minutes,  in  speechless  and  whimsical 
terror.  Then  he  said  : 

"  *  I  told  Marier  I  would  n't  tech  a  drop,  an' 
it  's  a  jest  punishment  ter  me,  that  's  what 
't  is.' 

"  Then  he  asked  an  old  man  if  he  saw  a  team 


The  Old  Fence.  39 

up  there  on  the  State  House  roof,  and  the  old 
man  said  :  '  Yes,  but  if  I  'd  been  drinking  as 
you  have,  I  'd  go  and  sign  the  pledge  at  once 
on  seeing  such  a  sight ! ' 

" '  Gosh  all  hemlock ! '  cried  the  farmer. 
4  Haow  in  thunder  did  they  git  up  there  ? ' 

"Then  he  just  sat  down  on  the  grass  and 
stared.  '  There  they  be,'  he  said, '  lookin'  nat'ral 
as  life  thet  there  piebald  'n  roan.  Gosh  all 
hemlock !  But  haow  they  come  fer  to  wanter 
stan*  on  thet  roof,  I  can't  see.  It  beats  me.' 

"Then  he  took  a  long  pull  at  his  black  bottle, 
and  lay  down  in  the  grass,  as  if  utterly  over 
come  in  mind  and  body. 

"  Then  he  sat  up  again.  *  Yes,  there  they 
be  !  '  he  cried.  '  Piebald  and  roan. — It  ain't  no 
mistake ! ' 

"  Then  he  started  off  after  his  team,  and  the 
next  thing  we  saw,  he  'd  got  up  on  the  roof 
himself,  with  a  number  of  small  boys  following 
him,  and  then  we  saw  him  lie  down  in  the  bot 
tom  of  his  wagon,  and  apparently  go  to  sleep 
in  a  state  of  hopeless  despair — and  rum. 

"  We  had  to  go  into  noon  recitation  then, 
and  when  we  came  out  he  was  still  there,  and 
the  whole  city  of  New  Haven  had  turned  out 


4O  Yale  Yarns. 

to  look  at  the  sight.     It  was  one  of  the  greatest 
gags  ever  gotten  off  at  Yale  !  " 

"  How  did  they  get  the  team  down  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  took  four  days,  and  they  had  to 
hand-feed  the  horses  all  that  time.  Finally 
they  got  out  the  city  fire  department,  and  got 
the  horses  down  the  stairs  backwards,  and  the 
farmer  went  home  a  wiser  and  better  man.  I 
remember  we  made  up  a  purse  for  him,  and  he 
invited  a  lot  of  us  out  to  his  farm,  over  behind 
West  Rock,  to  come  out  and  drink  hard  cider 
but  we  never  accepted  his  invitation. 

"  But  it  was  a  warning  to  all  farmers  and 
townies  to  let  our  sacred  fence  alone,  and  it 
was  never  defamed  again  that  way,  until  it  had 
to  go  to  make  room  for  Osborne  Hall." 

"  Little  Jack  "  (a  chip  of  the  old  block) 
hummed  quietly  : 

"  Wonder  if  it  's  true, — 
Does  it  seem  so  to  you  ? 
Seems  to  me  he  's  lyin' — 
Oh,  I  wonder  if  it  's  true  ?  " 

Then,  as  it  was  late,  they  had  one  more  round 
of  Bass  and  Burton  ale  at  Mory's,  and  strolled 
home,  singing  an  old-time  song,  of  a  society 
long  defunct : 


The  Old  Fenctt  41 

*'  Amid  usque  ad  alteras" 

"  And  not  necessarily  friends— after  the 
altar,"  said  the  old  grad.,  pleasantly,  "  for  then 
boys,  your  wives  usually  select  your  friends  for 
you !  " 


IN  THE  POLITICAL  CAULDRON. 

"  HONEST  John,  the  thief,"  had  been  brushing 
up  the  room  (No.  874  Welch),  emptying  out 
the  cigar  ashes,  tidying  up  the  curtains,  pretend 
ing  to  shake  the  rugs,  and  singing  quietly  to 
himself  as  he  moved  about,  to  some  quaint  old 
darky  tune : 

"  Oh,  shall  I  be  a  dimmykrat, 
Or  a  Christian  shall  I  be  ? 
Oh,  shall  I  join  de  dimmykrats, 
And  ne'er  mah  Lawd  to  see  ?  " 

when  the  door  suddenly  burst  open,  and  in 
bounced  Phil  Gardiner,  out  of  sorts  from  recita- 
tion  after  a  dead  flunk  in  mathematics  (owing 
to  political  excitement),  and  slammed  a  lot  of 
text-books  on  the  table,  saying : 

"  See  here,  John,  I  could  n't  find  my  razor 
this  morning !  " 

"Your  razzer,  sah?" 

"  Yes,  my  new  ivory-handled  razor." 
42 


In  the  Political  Cauldron.  43 

"  Why,  wy-wy-sah !  I  done  fin'  it  fo'  you, 
sah,  right  away,  sah.  Wha'  ken  it  be,  sah  ?  " 

"  Honest  John  "  looked  dreamily  out  of  the 
window. 

"  Well,  get  a  move  on  you,  then." 

"  Honest  John,  the  thief,"  knew  very  well 
where  it  was.  He  had  "  borrowed  "  it  for  a 
man  in  the  next  entry.  John  never  pinched 
anything  for  himself,  but  he  never  had  the 
heart  to  deny  his  student  employers  anything. 
If  one  asked  him  for  the  moon,  he'd  have  re 
plied,  "  I'll  try  to  git  it  fer  you,  sah,"  and  go 
about  snooping  around  in  other  men's  rooms, 
trying  to  find  a  spare  moon,  if  they  happened 
to  have  one.  Books,  lamps,  water  pitchers, 
rugs,  shirts,  collars,  razors,  were  always  forth 
coming  if  you  demanded  them  of  John,  and 
the  students  got  used  to  him  and  trusted 
him  and  his  peculiar  negro  honesty,  and  called 
him  "  Honest  John,  the  thief."  One  could  be 
sure  one's  belongings  never  got  away  very  far. 
"  Honest  John  "  never  let  them  get  away  into 
another  dormitory,  for  example;  and  ofttimes 
the  scheme  worked  very  well,  e.  g. :  another 
man's  razor  is  always  sharper  than  one's  own. 

The    razor,   or  a  razor,  came    in    with    com- 


44  Yale  Yarns. 

mendable  promptness,  and  Phil  began  shaving 
contentedly  before  his  glass,  and  "  Honest 
John  "  rinding  that  "  Mr."  Gardiner  was  unable 
to  do  much  talking,  did  the  talking  himself, 
rather  taking  Phil  at  a  disadvantage. 

"  You  dimmykrats  is  a  goin*  fer  to  ruin  dis 
country,  sah,  an'  de  fust  ting  I  knows  slavery  '11 
be  'stablished  agin  an'  me  an'  my  ole  woman 
'11  hev  to  go  down  South  an'  work  in  de  cottin 
feels;  an'  /  don'  mine  ef  de  ole  woman  's  made 
fer  ter  go,  but  ef  dey  takes  me  away,  dey  takes 
an  ole  man  what  ain't  good  fer  nothin'  what 
wid  rheumatiz,  no  sah !  de  old  woman,  she 
desarves  fer  to  go  back  an'  be  a  slave  agin  as 
she  was  bawn,  down  in  So*  Calina,  yes,  sah  ;  fer 
she  ain't  fit  fer  to  live,  no  s'haint." 
"What  's  the  matter  now,  John?" 
"  What  you  tink  of  a  woman  put  a  chawm 
in  her  husban's  tea  fer  to  win  back  my  love? 
Dat  's  what  she  done !  put  yarbs  in  my  tea,  yes, 
sah.  An*  den  when  de  chawm  begun  to  wo'k, 
de  fust  pusson  I  sot  eyes  on  was  dat  dere  collud 
cook  oveh  to  Professor  Wistler's  an'  I  done  kiss 
dat  cook  soon  's  I  seen  'er,  an'  mah  wife  she 
seen  me  done  it  an'  she  pull  mah  wool,  an' 
dere  was  a  'eep  o'  trouble  fer  me  right  den  and 


In  the  Political  Cauldron.  45 

dere ;  but  dey  '11  be  more  ef  I  jines  de  dimmy- 
krats  sah !  an*  I  'se  in  a  'eep  of  more  trouble, 
wat  wid  Mistah  Austin  cain't  find  his  new  gold 
watch,  sah,  an'  den  Mistah  Snow  'e  says,  *  John, 
ef  you  doan't  brung  back  my  smokin'  jacket  in 
one  hour,  I  '11  thrash  de  skin  off  yo'  old  bones ! ' 
Dat  wat  'e  say,  sah,  an'  Mistah  Everson,  sah, 
'e  's  wearin'  dat  smokin'  jacket,  an'  'e  says  'e 
likes  it  fuss  rate,  sah,  fuss  rate,  an'  do  wat 
I  ken,  he  won't  take  it  off,  sah ;  an*  sometimes 
I  do  tink  de  good  Lawd  he  done  forgot  po* 
John.  Yes,  I  do,  an*  I  tink  dat  ef  de  dimmy- 
krats  gits  in  pow*  agin,  de  cullud  folks  might 
jess  well  turn  up  dere  toes  an'  stop  prayin', — an' 
den  on  top  everythin'  else  I  hearn  tell  dat 
Jefferson  Davis,  he  want  dead  yit, — is  dat  so, 
Mistah  Gardner?  " 

"Who  told  you  that,  John?"  asked  Phil, 
laughing. 

"  Dat 's  wat  several  gentleums  tole  me.  An' 
John  Halter  he  said  so  too,  dat  he  reely  want 
dead,  an'  ef  de  dimmykrats  git  de  pow'  agin, 
a  sekin  time,  dat  dey  '11  mak  old  Jeff  Davis  de 
reel  president  an*  dat  de  cullud  folks  haid  better 
look  scace." 

"  Honest  John  "  looked  so  seriously  anxious 


46  Yale  Yarns. 

that  Gardiner  had  not  the  heart  to  impose  upon 
him. 

"  No,  John,"  he  said  kindly.  "  Jeff  Davis  is 
really  dead,  and  you  darks  are  just  as  safe 
under  a  democratic  regime  as  a  republican.  You 
can  join  the  procession  to-night  and  I  '11  get  you 
a  beautiful  red  cape  and  a  lantern." 

"  Oh,  no,  sah.  I  ain't  afraid,  sah,  but  de 
cullud  gentleums  up  mah  way,  sah,  dey  carry 
razzers,  sah." 

Gardiner  laughed,  but  said  nothing. 

The  old  negro  began  laughing  again  in  a 
moment.  "  Oh,  ef  de  dimmykrats  won't  do 
nuffin'  till  me  an'  de  ole  woman  is  under 
groun,'  why  den,  I  don'  keer  what  dey  does." 

"  The  democratic  party  will  take  better  care 
of  the  negro  than  the  republicans  have  ever 
thought  of  doing !  "  said  Phil,  with  a  grand 
flourish  of  his  razor. 

"  Honest  John  "  dodged  to  one  side. 

"  T-t-take  keer,  Mistah  Gard'ner,  fo'  de 
Lawd's  sake,  dat  razzer  's  sharp  !  dat's  Mistah 
Belcher's  razzer,  an'  he  tink  a  heap  o'  his  razzer, 
sah,  an'  keeps  hit  mos'  sharp  as  my  ole  woman's 
tongue,  sah  !  " 

"  Well,  John,  you  thief,  return  Tom  Belcher 


In  the  Political  Caiddron.  47 

his  razor  at  once  (Phil  had  finished  shaving),  and 
go  find  mine ;  if  it  is  n't  here  in  five  minutes, 
I  don't  know  but  I'll  force  you  to  carry  a 
lantern  in  our  democratic  procesh  to-night." 

But  "  Honest  John,  the  thief,"  had  quietly 
left  the  room. 

Phil  Gardiner  inherited  from  his  father  the 
congressman,  and  his  grandfather  the  governor, 
and  his  great-grandfather  the  high  something 
or  other,  a  rabid  taste  for  politics.  It  was 
through  Phil's  ingenuity  that,  when  class 
deacons  were  elected  in  Freshman  year,  and 
only  seventy-nine  were  present,  his  favorite  can 
didate  received  ninety-seven  votes,  and  was 
duly  elected !  Phil  had  been  on  every  con 
ceivable  kind  of  a  committee,  and  had  engi 
neered  every  conceivable  kind  of  a  scheme 
through  the  class,  from  voting  to  wear  silk  hats 
the  third  term  Freshman,  and  dropping  a  mons 
ter  paper  balloon  with  the  class  numeral  on 
Prex's  head  from  the  top  gallery  at  the  Glee 
Club  concert  Prom,  week,  to  electing  the  com 
mittee  of  the  Senior  Prom.  He  was  very 
popular  in  his  class,  and  very  naturally  was 
made  chief  marshal  in  the  great  monster  pro 
cession  in  honor  of  Cleveland  and  Stevenson 


48  Yale  Yarns. 

which  was  to  come  off  that  night,  and  which 
was  calculated  to  throw  utterly  in  the  shade  the 
republican  procession  a  few  nights  before,  and 
about  which,  owing  to  the  most  excellent  and 
talented  drum-major  the  democrats  happened 
to  possess  in  the  person  of  one  "Sodger" 
Flynn,  a  valiant  Junior,  there  was  already  con 
siderable  talk  on  the  Campus. 

The  republicans  had  a  drum-major — Saxton, 
— but  he  was  very  rank  in  comparison  with 
"  Sodger "  Flynn.  He  was  n't  in  the  same 
class  with  Flynn.  He  could  twirl  his  baton 
after  a  fashion,  but  the  hoodlums  and  street 
gamins  followed  the  "Sodger"  from  York 
Square  to  the  boat-house,  fascinated  by  his 
wonderful  manoeuvres,  and  the  independent 
voter  of  New  Haven  was  naturally  overawed 
and  brought  down  and  captured  at  once  by 
the  phenomenal  twists  and  gyrations  of  Flynn's 
baton.  He  would  throw  it  up  in  the  air  and 
catch  it  behind  him,  and  twist  it  under  his  arms, 
his  legs,  and  around  his  neck  amid  the  shouts 
of  the  populace.  Oh,  it  was  a  grand  sight  to  see 
the  "  Sodger"  lead  the  band  around  a  corner, 
and  file  and  counter-file  past  any  obstruction, 
never  out  of  step,  and  holding  his  head  up 


In  the  Political  Cauldron.  49 

proud  and  as  if  sure  of  victory  !  Ah,  yes!  Flynn 
was  indeed  the  very  heart  and  soul  of  the  pro 
cession. 

Imagine,  therefore,  Phil  Gardiner's  utter  con 
sternation  when,  just  as  he  finished  shaving,  a 
little  note  was  brought  to  him  which  he  tore 
open  and  read,  as  follows  : 

"  1282  FARNAM,  October  28th. 

"  DEAR  GARDINER — I  am  very  sorry  to  say  that  I  won't  be 
able  to  march  to-night.  While  I  was  fooling  out  in  the  gym. 
lot  this  morning,  I  sprained  my  ankle  badly.  The  doctor  says 
I  won't  walk  for  a  week,  perhaps  two.  I  'm  awful  sorry. 

' '  Yours  truly, 

"  H.  J.  FLYNN. 

"  P.  S. — You  can  have  my  baton  if  you  wish  it,  but  I  'm 
sorry  you  can't  have  me.  F." 

"  Blankety  blank  blank ! "  said  Phil,  disgusted. 
"  The  *  Sodger  '  can't  march  ! — sprained  his 
ankle  ! " 

A  number  of  fellows  had  dropped  in  after 
morning  recitation,  and  among  them  "  Little 
Jack  "  Horner  and  "  Boots  "  Paige,  who  were 
republicans  by  paternal  choice. 

"  That  's  all  right,"  said  Horner  ;  "  you're 
dished — your  procession  won't  amount  to  a  hill 
of  beans,  without  the  '  Sodger  ' !  " 

"  Blankety  blankety — confound  the  little  Irish 
fool !  Could  n't  he  wait  and  break  his  leg  or 


50  Yale  Yarns. 

even  his  neck  after  to-night,  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  Now  I  'm  going  over  to  his  room  and 
satisfy  my  mind  it  is  n't  a  fake.  Sprain  his 
ankle !  some  republican  has  '  done '  him  on 
purpose  !  What  the  deuce  are  we  to  do  for  a 
drum-major?  " 

Phil  rushed  out  of  the  room  and  over  to 
Farnam,  where  the  "  Sodger  "  lived,  and  those 
in  the  room  fell  to  discussing  foot-ball,  a 
favorite  topic  just  then  among  some  men  for 
whom  politics  did  not  have  an  overpowering 
fascination. 

Presently  Phil  came  charging  back  again, 
very  much  harassed  in  mind. 

"  He  can't  move  for  a  fact,  poor  devil !  "  he 
said.  "  Bad  sprain, — but  what  am  I  to  do  ?  No 
one  else  can  do  the  drum-major  act,  and  the 
'publicans  '11  have  the  laugh  on  us !  " 

"  Can't  you  get  one  in  town, — hire  one  ?  " 

"  We  have  spent  our  last  red  in  the  band 
and  the  torches  and  the  capes.  We  can't  hire 
one, — it 's  a  disgrace  to  us  not  to  have  our  own 
drum-major  !  What  luck !  " 

"  Little  Jack  "  Horner  sat  very  quietly  puff 
ing  away  on  a  Nile  cigarette.  At  last  he  said  : 
"  I  guess  I  can  fix  it." 


In  the  Political  Cauldron.  5 1 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Can  you  borrow  the  '  Sodger's  '  baton  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  can." 

"  Send  for  it,  and  I  '11  show  you  how  to  do 
the  trick." 

"  Little  Jack  "  Horner,  as  has  been  said,  was 
a  republican  by  parental  influence,  and  the 
repubs.  in  the  room  all  said  :  "  You  're  not  go 
ing  to  help  the  democrats  out  with  their  pro- 
cesh,  Jack?" 

"  You  wait,"  said  "  Little  Jack,"  and  then  he 
seemed  to  grin  all  over  his  round,  Cupid-like 
little  body,  and  they  knew  something  was  in 
the  wind. 

Phil  Gardiner  sent  over  and  borrowed  Flynn's 
baton,  a  very  elegant  affair  with  red  tassels  and 
brass  head-piece.  Gardiner  and  Flynn  had 
"  prepared"  together  at  a  military  school  on 
the  Hudson,  and  the  boys  had  presented  the 
staff  to  the  "  Sodger "  as  a  reward  of  distin 
guished  merit  on  his  leaving  school  for  college. 
Flynn  kept  it  carefully  and  sacredly  in  a  long 
oaken  box,  one  of  the  greatest  treasures  of  his 
room. 

He  had  great  reluctance  in  lending  the  baton 
to  Phil  Gardiner,  but  his  scruples  were  over- 


52  Yale  Yarns. 

come  by  thoughts  of  doing  some  service  to  his 
party. 

"  Be  careful  of  it,  boys,  I  would  n't  lose  it 
for  a  thousand  dollars,"  he  said  from  the  couch 
where  he  lay  with  his  sprained  ankle  in  his 
Farnam  room.  "  It 's  my  one  trick  I  do  which 
gives  me  hopes  of  immortality." 

When  "  Little  Jack  "  Horner  got  the  baton 
in  his  hands,  he  called  for  some  rubber  bands, 
and  knotted  a  half  dozen  of  these  together  and 
fastened  the  end  to  the  middle  of  the  baton, 
and  the  other  end  to  his  wrist. 

"  Now  watch  me,  and  I  '11  show  you  how  the 
trick  is  done,  Phil,"  he  said,  and  he  proceeded 
to  astonish  the  roomful  by  his  manipulations. 
He  tossed  the  stick  in  the  air  and  caught  it ; 
whirled  it  around  twice  (breaking  a  gas  globe, 
but  that  did  n't  matter),  and  Phil  Gardiner 
fairly  danced  with  joy. 

"You're  a  little  brick,  Jack!"  he  cried. 
"  Give  it  to  me,  and  I  '11  see  what  I  can  do 
with  it." 

Phil  seized  the  baton,  and  did  better  than 
"  Little  Jack  " — he  broke  a  looking-glass  ! 

Phil  Gardiner  practised  all  the  morning  and 
afternoon  between  recitations  with  the  baton, 


In  the  Political  Cauldron.  53 

and  by  evening  felt  that  he  would  make  an  ex 
cellent  substitute  for  the  "  Sodger."  Whatever 
he  did  with  the  stick,  and  no  matter  how  many 
times  it  came  back  and  hit  him  on  the  head,  he 
never  lost  it,  and  although  he  had  terrific 
bumps  on  his  forehead,  which  compelled  him 
to  wear  his  wide-a-wake  cap  on  one  side,  and 
had  received  black  and  blue  spots  from  "  the 

d d  thing,"  as  he  called  it,  all  over  his  arms 

and  his  body,  he  ate  a  hasty  supper  at  his  club 
and  went  over  to  High  Street,  where  the  stu 
dent  brigade — a  force  of  some  five  hundred 
men — was  to  form,  in  capital  spirits. 

The  procession  was  an  imposing  affair. 
Nearly  two  thousand  good  Democrats  from 
New  Haven  and  outlying  towns  were  to  march 
in  it,  and  many  houses  and  stores  along  Chapel 
Street  and  York,  and  through  the  city  on  the 
line  of  march,  were  brilliantly  illuminated  with 
red  fire  and  Chinese  lanterns.  As  the  student 
force  rested  along  High  Street,  waiting  for  the 
procession  to  come  down  Chapel  from  York 
Street,  it  was  seen  that  each  class  carried  a 
large  banner  and  illumination  :  "  Cleveland  and 
Reform,"  "  Free  Trade  and  Cheap  Commodi 
ties,"  "Yale  and  Reform,"  "  'Umpty-Six  and 


54  Yale  Yarns. 

Cleveland,"  "  Grandpa's  Hat  is  in  the  Soup," 
and  a  lot  more  mottoes  hurling  contumely 
upon  the  enemy,  printed  in  staring  black  letters. 

Phil  Gardiner  combined  marshal  duties  with 
that  of  drum-major,  and  he  hurried  down  the 
line  giving  commands,  and  the  student  ranks 
were  arranged  six  abreast.  The  Seniors  came 
first,  then  the  Juniors,  Sophs.,  and  Freshmen. 
Then  followed  the  Sheffs.  with  a  separate 
band,  with  a  modest  drum-major  of  their  own. 

Phil  had  borrowed  a  shako  of  a  New  Haven 
friend — a  member  of  the  "  Grays," — and  as  he 
heard  the  head  band  of  the  procession,  with 
trumpets  and  drums,  marching  into  Chapel  at 
York  Street  corner,  he  suddenly  conceived 
a  brilliant  plan — he  determined  to  execute  a 
grand  coup  of  strategy  and  place  his  own  com 
mand  at  the  right  of  the  entire  procession  ! 

So,  ordering  his  band  to  strike  up,  he  at  once 
gave  the  command  to  march,  and  wheeled  his 
columns  to  the  left,  past  the  Art  building  down 
Chapel,  the  line  of  march  at  the  head  of  the 
procession. 

Of  course,  this  tickled  the  students  immensely 
and  they  gave  the  college  cheer,  while  Major 
O'Dowd,  who  was  in  command,  leading  the  pro- 


In  the  Political  Caiildron.  55 

cession  of  townies  down  Chapel  from  York,  on 
horseback,  was  naturally  furious. 

"  Begorra  !  ut  's  a  student  thrick  !  "  he  cried 
to  his  aids,  and  dashed  down  toward  the  stu 
dent  brigade  to  head  them  off.  But  Phil  Gardi 
ner  was  proudly  leading  off  the  band  and 
twirling  and  tossing  his  baton  in  the  air,  to  the 
delight  of  the  crowds  on  the  sidewalks,  and  the 
Major  had  to  turn  back  discomfited. 

"  I  '11  be  even  wid  the  likes  of  you  yet, 
Misther  Gardner!  "  bawled  the  Major,  shaking 
his  sword  in  the  air,  but  he  had  to  halt  his 
command  to  allow  the  students  first  place. 

Down  Chapel  they  marched,  the  band  play 
ing  Sousa's  "  High-School  Cadet  Two-Step," 
and  Phil  Gardiner  leading  on,  tossing  his  baton, 
whirling  it  about  his  shako,  catching  it  again 
with  the  greatest  ease  and  agility, —  it  was  the 
proudest  moment  of  his  life. 

"Little  Jack"  Horner  and  a  lot  of  Junior 
and  Senior  republicans  had  gathered  on  the 
Osborne  Hall  steps  to  guy  the  procession  as 
they  went  by. 

"  Get  on  to  the  fake  drum-major!  "  shouted 
the  republicans,  but  it  did  n't  go  with  the 
crowd  for  a  cent. 


56  Yale  Yarns. 

"Gad!  "  said  Paige,  "Jack,  your  improvised 
drum-major  is  a  howling  success  !  "  as  Gardiner, 
feeling  on  his  mettle  between  the  mass  of  re 
publican  students  on  one  side,  and  the  New 
Haven  House,  whose  windows  and  balconies 
were  crowded  with  girls,  on  the  other,  gave  his 
baton  an  extra  toss  and  won  the  applause  and 
hand-clapping  as  he  came  along,  the  very  model 
of  a  modern  drum-major. 

"Watch  him,  watch  him!"  cried  "Little 
Jack,"  excitedly.  "  If  that  rubber  elastic  breaks 
he  's  dished  !  " 

Then,  as  luck  would  have  it,  as  he  said  the 
words,  the  baton  in  Phil's  hands  gave  a  tremen 
dous  leap  and  landed  far  on  the  turf  of  the  com 
mon,  behind  the  crowd,  amid  the  laughter  of  all. 

"He  's  done!  He  's  done,  boys!  Run  get 
that  baton!"  shouted  "Little  Jack,"  to  his 
alert  republican  friends.  Barrington  dashed 
swiftly  through  the  crowd,  grabbed  the  baton 
out  of  the  hands  of  a  gamin  who  had  picked  it 
up,  and  ran  madly  across  the  common,  until 
he  was  out  of  sight ;  then  he  carried  it  up  to 
"  Sodger  "  Flynn's  room  and  stood  it  up  against 
his  door  and  sneaked  back  through  the  Campus 
to  Osborn  Hall. 


In  the  Political  Cauldron.  57 

Phil  Gardiner  gave  a  cry  of  despair,  seized 
his  shako  off  his  head,  tucked  it  under  his  arm, 
and,  forgetting  his  duties  as  drum-major,  started 
madly  after  his  lost  baton.  They  were  then 
just  at  the  corner  of  Chapel  and  College  Streets, 
— the  famous  "  fence  corner"  so  admirably  de 
picted  in  Rowland's  painting,  now  in  the  gym 
nasium.  The  band,  seeing  Drum-Major  Gardi 
ner  turn  to  the  left,  in  the  blind,  fatuous  way 
bands  have  (they  follow  their  drum-major  like 
sheep),  wheeled  to  the  left  also,  and  led  the 
procession  of  student  torches  idiotically  off  past 
the  colleges  down  College  toward  Elm. 

Phil  Gardiner,  seeing  this  mistake,  halted  his 
column  a  moment,  then,  seeing  that  the  jig  was 
up,  and  that  the  baton  was  gone  and  "  forever 
lost,"  seized  a  torch  and  marched  his  men  on 
down  College  Street,  swearing  that  he  'd  have 
revenge  on  somebody,  he  hardly  knew  whom. 

Major  O'Dowd,  greatly  pleased  to  get  even, 
resumed  the  leadership,  and  marched  his  col 
umn  down  Chapel,  the  prescribed  line  of  march, 
thus  making  two  fine  democratic  displays  on 
either  side  of  the  green,  and  giving  an  impres 
sion  to  the  casual  looker-on  as  if  the  whole 
thing  had  been  so  planned  from  the  beginning. 


58  Yale  Yarns. 

Well,  those  two  democratic  processions  kept 
it  up  all  night  pretty  much,  wandering  over  the 
lower  part  of  New  Haven,  a  "  fairly  perfect 
example  of  the  usual  dissensions  in  the  demo 
cratic  party,"  as  the  republican  newspapers 
hinted  next  day,  But  one  thing  was  to  their 
credit, — they  never  came  to  blows,  and  the  dis 
play  was  really  magnificent. 

"  All  's  well  that  ends  well."  President 
Cleveland,  I  believe,  is  at  present  occupying 
the  White  House  at  Washington,  and  Phil 
Gardiner  has  hanging  in  his  boarding-house 
room  in  New  York,  where  he  is  at  present 
studying  law,  as  a  preliminary  to  entering  poli 
tics  in  his  native  State,  a  handsome  baton  with 
a  silver  head,  presented  to  him  by  his  demo 
cratic  classmates  and  friends,  as  a  testimonial 
of  their  regard  for  his  efforts  in  the  great  politi 
cal  campaign  generally,  that  year,  and  particu 
larly  for  his  brave  effort  to  do  drum-major's 
duty  with  an  elastic  string. 


"LITTLE  JACK"  HORNER'S  PIE. 

"  How  did  you  get  jugged,  *  Little  Jack  '  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't,"  he  answered  indignantly,  "  be 
sides,  that 's  a  very  impertinent  question  to  ask 
of  any  gent  as  considers  hisself  a  gent.  It  is 
begging  the  question  ;  it  's  as  bad  as  that  funny 
one — oh  !  so  funny — in  Jevons's  Logic,  '  Why 
did  you  kill  your  grandmother?' — the  joke  we 
all  laughed  so  hard  over,  by  preconcerted  sig 
nal,  don't  you  remember  in  recitation  last 
term  ?  " 

"  Tell  us  the  whole  story  ;  we  were  in  at  the 
end  of  it ;  we  each  had  a  piece  of  pie." 

They  were  sitting  and  smoking  on  the  fence 
in  front  of  Durfee.  It  was  a  mild  June  even 
ing.  They  were  in  the  midst  of  the  usual  dis 
cussion  about  the  crew  or  the  nine.  Wherever 
a  knot  of  students  gathered  at  this  season,  on 
the  Campus,  the  subject  of  excited  conversation 
was  the  nine ;  if  it  wras  n't,  it  was  the  crew.  If 
it  was  neither  the  nine  nor  the  crew,  it  was  the 
59 


60  Yale  Yarns. 

class  nine  or  crew.  If  it  was  neither  class  nine 
nor  crew,  it  was,  probably,  Harvard's  nine  or 
crew.  You  see,  the  student  topics  of  conversa 
tion  at  this  season,  after  the  secret-society 
elections  had  been  given  out,  and  there  was 
little  to  look  forward  to,  on  the  whole,  were 
rather  limited. 

"  Little  Jack "  Horner  puffed  away  on  his 
cigarette,  smiled,  looked  knowing,  said  nothing. 
Then  he  climbed  up  laboriously — he  was  too 
short  to  do  it  comfortably — and  perched  on  the 
fence. 

Austin,  "  Laze "  Aldrich,  Barrington,  Tad 
Nelson,  and  "  Boots  "  Paige  were  in  the  group. 

"  Haley  can't  pitch  for  a  tinker's ,"  said 

Austin. 

"Shut  up!  Let's  hear  'Little  Jack's'  ac 
count  of  himself." 

They  enjoyed  "  Little  Jack"  Horner's  tales, 
even  if,  dear  reader,  they  may  not  always  be 
agreeable  to  you,  an  outsider.  His  manner 
was  everything.  He  'd  wink  his  eye,  roll  his 
tongue,  drawl,  imitate  the  speakers,  and  keep 
every  one  laughing,  although  they  might  have 
heard  the  tale  a  dozen  times. 

"This   happened    last    Friday    night,"   said 


"Little  Jack "  Homers  Pie.          6 1 

"  Little  Jack  "  Horner,  "  and  it 's  too  fresh  to 
be  given  away  yet.  It  must  be  kept  on  the 
dead  quiet,  for  if  the  Faculty  knew  it, — my 
marks  are  now  about  the  limit.  Barrington, 
when  dining  with  Prexy  next  Sunday,  don't 
tell  it  as  an  after-dinner  yarn,  for  I  want  very 
much,  if  I  can,  to  lap  over  into  Junior  year  with 
'  youse  fellers.'  ' 

"  Go  ahead,  '  Jack  '  Horner !  " 

After  lighting  a  fresh  cigarette,  and  tipping 
his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head,  "  Little  Jack  " 
went  ahead  as  follows : 

"  Hurlburt,  *  Handsome  Dan,'  Billy  Scot,  and 
I  were  over  at  the  club,  and,  like  a  pack  of  fools 
having  nothing  else  to  do,  got  to  drinking  cow 
punches. 

"  Now,  we  did  n't  know  anything  about  milk 
punches,  as  you  will  find  out  if  you  listen.  But 
they  are  awfully  dangerous  food.  We  drank  a 
round,  then  another  round.  Then  we  could  n't 
think  of  the  name  of  any  other  kind  of  drink, 
and  had  'just  one  more,'  and, — I  don't  know; 
we  all  went  up  to  my  room.  Then  we  went 
back  to  the  club,  like  a  pack  of  fools,  and  bet 
each  other  we  could  n't  go  one  more ;  then  we 
had  two  more  each,  and  then  we  went  back  to 


62  Yale  Yarns. 

my  room  in  Lawrance,  and  all  went  to  sleep. 
Yes,  sir,  it  was  about  seven  then, — without 
thinking  about  supper  at  all.  We  lay  down  in 
our  tracks  just  as  we  were,  and  when  my  chum 
Keith  came  in  after  supper,  he  just  said  '  Gee  ! ' 
and  walked  out  again  and  let  us  sleep,  and  we 
slept ;  and  Keith  he  spent  the  night  over  with 
'  Dwarf  Sprague  in  Durfee. 

"  Well,  we  slept  an '  slept,  and  along  about 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  began  to  wake 
up,  and  I  felt  deuced  hungry. 

"  Then,  by  Jerusalem,  a  funny  thing  hap 
pened.  You  see,  the  milk  had  all  digested  by 
this  time  and  left  the  rum  and  brandy  room  to 
get  in  its  fine  work  in  their  heads;  and  Hurl- 
burt  was  under  a  frightful  jag,  and  '  Handsome 
Dan '  Hastings  was  going  about  on  his  hands 
and  knees  looking,  he  said,  for  his  lost  virtue. 
Billy  Scot  tipped  over  all  the  chairs  and  threw 
my  Greek  lexicon  out  of  the  window.  I  was 
the  only  sober  man  in  the  crowd." 

"  Oh,  oh,  how  about  bawling  for  your  mammy 
— calling  to  the  night-watchman,  out  of  the 
window,  *  Go  up,  thou  baldhead  !  '  "  cried  Trow- 
bridge ;  "  and  *  Watchman,  tell  us  of  the 
night?' ' 


1  'Little  Jack  "  Homers  Pie.          63 

"  Shut  up.  Who  's  telling  this  yarn  ?  I  saw 
it  would  n't  do  to  let  'em  fool  around  and  make 
any  more  noise  in  college,  so  I  got  'em  all  out 
on  a  foot  race,  for  a  purse.  I  started  'em  all 
up  towards  ShefL  and  Hillhouse  Avenue,  on  a 
dead  run.  The  usually  fastidious  Hurlburt 
took  the  gutter  and  fell  down  three  times  on 
the  way  to  Sheff. !  Then  I  think  we  serenaded 
a  fern.  sem.  and  the  next  thing — queer,  was  n't 
it  ? — we  found  ourselves  solemnly  sitting  in  a 
row,  on  the  steps  of  Osborne  Hall,  and  hardly 
a  sign  of  a  jag  between  us  ! 

"  By  that  time,  say  six  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  we  were  mortal  hungry,  and  nothing  was 
open,  for  we  'd  tried  several  joints  on  the  way 
up  and  they  were  closed  tight  as  drums. 

"  We  were  wondering  what  we  'd  do  or  wait 
for  breakfast,  when,  to  our  immense  relief,  up 
drove  the  great  covered  wagon  of  the  '  Great 
Consolidated  American  Pie  Company,'  what 
ever  that  was,  and  delivered  a  dozen  pies  at  the 
restaurant. 

"  We  felt  in  our  pockets  but  had  n't  a  cent  be 
tween  us,  and  Billy  Scot,  when  the  pie-man  got 
off  his  perch  and  went  in  to  deliver  his  '  goods,' 
slipped  into  the  covered  wagon,  and  crooked 


64  Yale  Yarns. 

four  pies,  and  got  back  without  the  driver's  see 
ing  him.  Gee  !  they  were  daisies  too  !  *  Easy 
fruit !  '  we  all  said,  and  the  driver  in  the  Com 
pany's  uniform,  seeing  us  eating  his  pies,  looked 
mad,  and  shook  his  fist  at  us.  We  gave  him  a 
little  chin — I  remember  Hurlburt's  asking  him 
if  he  was  anything  like  the  Pied  Piper  of 
Hamelin  ?  and  the  fellow  swore  a  round  of 
first-rate  oaths — '  Blankety  blankety  blank  you 
blankety  students,  I  '11  get  even  with  you  yet ! ' 

"  *  Go  there  yourself  !  '  We  laughed  and 
munched  and  he  drove  off  furiously,  down 
Chapel  Street.  We  thought  that  was  the  last 
we  should  see  of  him. 

"  But  no  sooner  had  we  finished  our  pies  in 
good  shape,  and  were  just  about  ready  for 
another  fresh  one,  when  back  came  the  '  Great 
Consolidated  '  again,  and  the  driver  got  out  and 
went  into  the  restaurant  just  as  before. 

"  Gee  !  I  could  n't  stand  that,  you  know  ;  so, 
being  frightfully  hungry  by  this  time,  I  sneaked 
up  to  the  wagon,  and  climbed  in  to  pinch  some 
more  pies.  I  got  up  on  the  forward  wheels  and 
was  just  climbing  over  the  seat  into  the  interior 
of  the  '  cavern  '  as  our  friend  Virgil  observes  of 
the  interior  of  the  Wooden  Horse  at  Troy, 


"Little  Jack  "  Homers  Pie.          65 

when — Christopher  Hemlock  !  Two  coppers 
grinning  like  a  pair  of  bloomin'  hyenas  jumped 
forward,  grabbed  me  by  the  arm  and  pulled  me 
over  the  wheels  and  into  the  inside  of  that  aw 
ful  pie-wagon,  where  it  was  dark  as  pitch.  It 
had  a  door  which  shut  tight,  and  you  can  im 
agine  my  feelings  to  be  shut  up  in  that  horri 
ble  Black  Maria,  with  two  policemen  and  forty 
thousand  pies !  There  were  apple  -  pies  and 
cranberry-pies,  and  meat-pies  and  custard-pies, 
and,  although  I  was  still  hungry,  I  had  enough 
pie — and  it  was  awful !  and  what  's  more,  I 
trembled,  for  I  knew  if  the  Faculty  got  wind  of 
it  I  'd  be  sent  down  sure — yes,  it  would  have 
been  three  months  in  rure. 

"  Well,  I  cussed  and  blanked  'em,  but  the 
coppers  held  on  to  me  all  the  harder  and 
tighter,  and  we  bounced  and  bounded  from  one 
side  of  the  street  to  the  other  inside  the  *  Con 
solidated/  in  our  mad  haste  to  get  to  the  jug. 

"  Of  course,  I  could  n't  see  what  went  on  out 
side  the  blamed  pie-wagon,  but  I  knew  that 
Hurlburt  and  Dan  and  Billy  Scot  weren't  the 
chappies  to  let  me  be  whirled  off  to  the  jug 
without  some  sort  of  a  feeble  protest.  So  I  just 
kept  the  coppers  interested  ;  although  I  heard 


66  Yale  Yarns. 

some  sort  of  scuffling  going  on  with  the  driver, 
I  did  n't  know  what  it  was, — I  kept  the  bobbies 
busy  with  me,  and  drew  their  attention  away. 

"  Presently  the  bloomin'  pie-wagon  stopped, 
then  there  seemed  to  be  more  scuffling  outside 
and  I  fought  and  tore  trying  to  get  out,  and 
then  the  wagon  went  on  again. 

"  Then  it  came  to  a  full  stop,  and  they  opened 
the  door  of  the  cussed  thing  and  out  we  got 
in  front  of  the  jug.  How  he  did  it  I  don't 
know,  but  there,  sitting  on  the  driver's  box  as 
cool  as  Moses,  and  in  the  driver's  uniform  and 
cap,  sat  Billy  Scot,  as  big  as  life.  What  they  'd 
done  with  the  real  driver,  I  did  not  know  till 
later. 

"  *  Keep  'em  busy  and  they  won't  notice  me,' 
he  whispered,  and  I  began  to  pull  and  haul  and 
pretend  I  was  going  to  break  away  and  skip 
across  the  green  up  to  the  Campus. 

"  *  For  a  leetel  divvil, — yer  a  corker !  '  said 
one  of  the  cops.  '  Kape  still,  or  I  '11  use  me 
club  as  a  persuader !  Yiz  stoodents  'ill  find  out 
soon  yiz  doant  own  de  eart !  ' 

"  '  I  would  n't  want  to  own  "  de  eart "  on  you ! ' 
I  retorted. 

"In  we  all  went  before  the  police  captain, 


"Little  Jack "  Homers  Pie.          6 7 

and  as  it  was  then  only  about  half-past  six 
o'clock,  the  captain  was  just  out  of  bed  and 
hardly  awake,  and  in  a  state  of  rage  at  having 
so  early  an  arrest  to  attend  to. 

"  '  Wha'  's  the  charge  ?  '  he  growled,  as  we 
all  lined  up  before  the  bar,  I  with  a  cop  on 
either  side  holding  on  to  my  arm  for  dear  life 
(I  think  I  came  up  to  their  elbows),  and  Billy 
Scot  in  the  Great  Consolidated  Pie  Company's 
uniform,  cap  and  coat,  and  looking  as  innocent 
as  a  sheep. 

"  '  Wha'  's  the  charge,  officer  ?  '  growled  the 
captain,  a  huge  Irishman,  with  a  red  face  and 
bleary  eye. 

"  '  Stealin'  pies, — he  's  the  driver  [indicating 
Scot  with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb], — he  makes  the 
charge,  captain.' 

"  '  Do  you  make  the  charge  ? '  said  the  cap 
tain,  looking  at  Scot  fixedly,  as  if  to  bore  a 
hole  through  him." 

"  *  Agin'  who  ?  '  said  Billy,  in  a  surly  tone, — 
Billy  was  adapting  himself  to  look  at  things 
from  the  driver's  standpoint. 

"  *  Agin'  this  young  man  they  have  here.' 

" '  He  wa'  n't  stealin'  no  pies,'  said  Billy, 
lurching  forward. 


68  Yale  Yarns. 

"  '  Well, — who  was  then  ?  '  bellowed  the 
captain. 

"'Them  two  officers,  captain.  An' it  ain't 
the  fust  time  nayther.' 

"  The  two  officers  at  this  became  absolutely 
dumb  and  speechless  with  astonishment.  I 
never  saw  any  one  so  nonplussed  in  all  my  life  ! 
But  I  held  myself  in  and  kept  myself  down 
and  said :  '  That  's  so,  Captain  Cockran — [I 
knew  his  name].  They  got  caught  and  tried 
to  lay  the  blame  on  an  innocent  man.' 

"  One  of  the  coppers,  in  a  sort  of  apoplectic 
coma,  stammered  something,  and  the  captain 
bawled  out,  in  a  voice  of  fury  :  '  Howld  yer 
tongue  !  will  yez  !  Wait  till  I  ask  yez  to  spake  ! 
It  's  time  this  petty  thavin'  by  officers  should 
be  stopped,  an'  I  mane  to  stop  ut  ef  it  takes 
all  the  min  off  the  force  !  ' 

" '  They  was  inside  my  pie-wagon,'  said 
Scot. 

"  *  They  was  ?  Was  you  inside  the  pie- 
wagin  ? '  demanded  the  captain,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder.  '  Spake  ! ' 

"  '  Yis,'  answered  one  of  the  coppers,  meekly 
terrified  at  his  captain's  sternness. 

"  '  Thin, 1  '11  hear  no  more  o'  this.     Dist- 


"Little  Jack "  Homers  Pie.          69 

charge  that  little  bye  there  as  looks  as  inner- 
cent  as  a  new-born  babe  ! ' 

"  I  took  a  step  backward. 

"  *  Officer,  arrist  these  two  roundsmen,  an' 
lock  them  up  until  a  complaint  ken  be  made 
out  agin'  them  before  the  justice.' 

"  '  Yer  Honor,'  said  Billy  Scot,  *  I  don't  wish 
to  press  no  charge, — I  jest  want  the  officers 
reprimanded, — that  's  all.' 

"  I  thought  myself  it  was  all  he  could  or 
ought  to  expect  at  the  time  ! 

"  The  captain,  in  his  outraged  sense  of  jus 
tice,  would  n't  let  either  of  the  men  speak  and 
clear  himself,  and  proceeded  to  give  them  a 
fearful  raking  down,  and  at  the  close  of  his 
tongue  lashing  remanded  them  over  to  be 
further  lectured  by  the  Justice,  who  usually 
opened  court  at  ten  A.M. 

"  So  Billy  and  I  thanked  the  captain,  and 
went  out  grinning  all  over,  and  got  on  the  seat 
of  the  pie  wagon  and  drove  off  up  towards  the 
colleges,  laughing  until  the  tears  ran  down  our 
cheeks. 

"  '  Where  have  you  hid  the  driver  ? '  I  asked 
Billy. 

"  '  They    said    they  'd    take   him   up   to  the 


70  Yale  Yarns. 

room,  but  I  advised  them  to  keep  him  down  in 
the  basement,  and  be  careful  about  names  too. 
You  see  we  had  to  drag  him  off  the  seat,  and 
we  mauled  him  pretty  well  in  doing  it.  Then 
we  made  him  take  off  his  coat,  and  I  put  it  on, 
— and  you  know  the  rest.  The  last  /  saw  of 
the  driver,  he  was  being  led,  against  his  better 
judgment,  at  a  fast  pace  toward  Lawrance 
Hall ! ' 

"  So  we  drove  the  pie-wagon  up  Elm  to  the 
corner  of  College  Street,  and  Scot  held  the 
reins  while  I  went  in  to  investigate. 

"  Hurlburt  whistled  to  me  out  of  his  Law 
rance  window,  and  told  me  they  had  the  driver 
.up  in  the  room,  so  I  ran  up,  and  found  they 
had  the  driver  tied  to  the  steam  radiator  ! 

"  '  He  threatens  to  peach  on  us/  said  Dan. 

"'Does  he?'  said  I.  'Well,  then,  we'll 
have  all  the  fun  we  can  now,  boys ! '  And  I 
got  out  a  large  sheet  of  paper  and  marked  on 
it,  in  big  letters  : 

!    FRESH    PIES    FREE    TO-DAY    ONLY!!   : 

And  the  driver  saw  the  sign  and  weakened  a 
little,  I  thought.  So  I  said  :  '  We  '11  put  this 


"Little  Jack "  Homers  Pie.          7 1 

sign  on  the  wagon  and  drive  in  on  the  Campus. 
In  three  minutes  every  fellow  in  college  will 
have  a  piece  of  pie  !  ' 

"  '  What  's  more,'  said  Scot,  '  we  '11  dispose  of 
you — O  pie  driver — in  a  dungeon  cell  under 
ground  where  no  pies  will  ever  cheer  your 
chary  soul  again  !  ' 

"  The  driver  turned  very  pale,  and  trembled. 

" '  Say,'  he  pleaded,  '  don't  put  me  into  one 
o'  them  jugs  without  no  windys  to  'em,  will 
ye? — they  calls  'em  Bones  'n  Keys.' 

" '  No/  laughed  Scot,  '  we  won't  do  that ! ' 

"  But  the  driver  gave  no  further  sign  of 
weakening  and  said  nothing,  and  so  I  ran 
down,  and  Scotty  and  I  determined  to  have  a 
little  fun.  It  was  near  chapel  time  now,  and 
every  one  was  up,  and  going  or  coming  from 
breakfast.  We  drove  the  great  van  up  between 
Durfee  and  Alumni  Hall,  and  enjoyed  our 
selves  immensely  perambulating  up  and  down 
in  front  of  Farnam  and  Lawrance,  with  our 
sign  out  in  full  force.  I  don't  think  I  ever  had 
so  much  fun  in  all  my  life.  Scotty  got  a  fish- 
horn  from  somewhere,  and  the  procession  fell 
in  behind  the  wagon,  and  we  marched  over 
almost  as  far  as  the  Art  building,  when  Profes- 


72  Yale  Yarns. 

sor  Dribble  came  up  to  us  and  ordered  us  off 
the  Campus. 

"  '  Who  owns  that  vehicle  ? '  he  asked. 

" '  The  Great  Consolidated  American  Pie 
Company/  I  answered. 

"  *  What  are  you  doing  with  that  vehicle  on 
the  Campus,  Mr.  Horner?' 

"  *  Only  going  to  prayers,  sir,'  said  Scotty,  and 
I  spoke  up  quickly: 

"  *  I  'm  trying  to  turn  it  around  and  get  out, 
sir.' 

"  '  See  that  you  do  so  without  further  delay  ! ' 

"  Then  he  turned  and  walked  away,  looking 
very  angry. 

"  Then  I  described  a  conic  section,  and  drove 
around  past  the  library  and  so  got  back  to 
Duriee.  There  the  '  Dwarf '  and  his  gang  of 
Durfee  turks  set  upon  us,  and  then  the  whole 
college  had  pie !  Scotty  and  I  could  n't  stop 
them, — it  was  no  use.  Every  pie  in  the  wagon 
was  captured !  One  hundred  and  fifty  pies 
stolen!  Oh,  the  slaughter  was  awful !  Even 
Seniors  went  crazy  with  the  rest  and  daubed 
themselves  over  with  pie.  The  chapel  bell  be 
gan  tolling — and  pie  invaded  the  sanctuary. 
We  called  a  sweep  and  told  him  to  hold  the 


"Little  Jack  "  Homers  Pie.          73 

horses,  and  hurried  into  prayers,  and  when  we 
came  out  every  dark  on  the  Campus  was  around 
that  pie-wagon  like  flies  around  molasses.  I 
ran  up  to  Hurlburt's  room  and  tried  to  get 
in,  but  the  door  was  locked,  and  I  heard 
the  driver  inside  begging  to  be  let  out,  and 
swearing  he  'd  never  tell  a  soul  about  the 
affair. 

"  *  But  I  'm  a  worryin'  myself  fer  fear  them 
nigs  '11  eat  all  the  paint  off  my  new  waggin,' 
he  said,  gazing  out  the  window  *  an'  them  'os- 
ses  may  be  et  too — oh,  this  is  too  much ! 
Please,  kind  gents,  let  me  go !  let  me  go  home 
to  mother  !  ' 

"  Well,  the  upshot  of  it  was  that  Hurlburt, 
Dan,  and  Scotty  came  up  at  that  moment,  and 
we  went  out  and  borrowed  some  money,  made 
up  a  purse  of  twenty  dollars  on  the  spot,  and  the 
driver  at  last  was  more  than  satisfied.  He  'd 
sold  his  pies  at  a  big  profit,  and  he  went  and 
got  his  team  and  meekly  drove  off. 

"  I  forgot  to  say  that  we  warned  the  driver 
if  he  ever  did  anything  about  it  we  'd  have  his 
life!" 

"  Well,  I  hope  nothing  will  ever  come  of  it !  " 
said  the  listeners,  laughing. 


74  Yale  Yarns. 

And  nothing  ever  did,  for  the  "  Great  Con 
solidated  American  Pie  Company,"  which  prob 
ably  consisted  of  the  driver,  his  wife,  mother, 
and  all  the  driver's  family,  wrote  "  Little  Jack  " 
a  pleasant  letter  a  few  days  later,  and  sent  him 
a  huge  apple-pie,  two  and  a  half  feet  in  di 
ameter,  by  actual  measurement.  They  could 
hardly  get  it  in  his  room  door  !  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  Hurlburt,  "  Handsome  Dan,"  Billy 
Scot,  Keith,  and  "  Boots "  Paige,  and  several 
more,  had  a  royal  feast  out  of  it,  and  later  on 
they  mixed  a  punch,  and  all  sang  in  maudlin 
chorus,  at  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to 
the  horror  of  the  tutor  beneath  them  : 

"  Little  Jack  Homer, 

Sat  in  a  corner, 

Eating  his  Great  American  Pie  ; 
He  put  in  his  thumb, 
And  pulled  out  a  plum, 
And  said  :   '  Oh,  what  a  great  boy  am  I  ! '" 

( Repetitio  ad  in  Jin.) 


WITH  THE  DWIGHT  HALL  HEELERS. 

AVERILL  came  up  to  his  room  in  South  Mid 
dle  with  somewhat  more  than  his  usual  appear 
ance  of  quietude  and  dejection.  He  was  tall, 
thin,  and  stooped  a  little,  with  that  melancholy 
droop  to  his  shoulders  which  proclaims  a  man 
recklessly  given  over  to  the  making  the  very 
most  of  his  college  course,  and  possessing  a  de 
votion  to  midnight  oil  and  dull  grinding  which 
must  inevitably  lead  to  a  philosophical  and  in 
capacitate  him  for  the  boat  or  the  foot-ball 
field, — as  Barrington  said  of  his  kind.  His 
face  was  drawn  and  pale  and  as  he  entered  the 
door  his  lustrous  dark  eyes,  in  which  the  beauti 
ful  soul  of  the  man  shone  out  with  the  fine  en 
thusiasm  of  a  true  Grecian,  looked  anywhere 
but  into  the  eyes  of  his  chum. 

Averill  sank  down  in  a  corner  of  his  lounge, 
and  looked  blankly  into  the  embers  of  the 
wood  fire  for  a  moment,  then  rose  with  a  curi 
ous  restlessness,  and  stood  with  his  hands  in 
75 


76  Yale  Yarns. 

his  pockets  before  the  window,  looking  down 
at  a  number  of  his  classmates  who  were  stand 
ing  on  the  sidewalk  laughing  and  joking  about 
something  that  apparently  had  recently  amused 
them. 

His  chum,  known  to  a  majority  of  the  class  as 
a  "  greasy  grind," — "  Deacon  "  Demarest, — had 
raised  his  eyes  and  glanced  at  Averill  through 
a  pair  of  near-sighted  spectacles,  and  let  them 
drop  again  on  the  Agruola,  of  one  Caius  Cor 
nelius  Tacitus,  a  work  he  was  studiously  perus 
ing  by  way  of  doing  a  little  extra  reading  for  a 
classical  scholarship  prize.  The  examination 
was  to  take  place  two  weeks  later,  and  the  good 
Deacon  for  a  month  had  assumed  the  usual 
"  grouch  "  of  a  hard-working  "  dig."  He  was 
nervous,  peevish,  irritable,  and  unhappy.  If  he 
should  be  fortunate  enough  to  be  successful  he 
would  be  able  to  finish  his  course  without  fur 
ther  drawing  upon  the  narrow  store  of  funds 
possessed  by  his  widowed  mother.  Ah,  how 
the  good  fellow  longed,  toiled,  w\&  prayed  to  be 
successful !  Aye — he  even  went  so  far  that  he 
thought  it  no  sin  to  read  Epictetus  Sunday 
afternoons  instead  of  going  down  to  the  usual 
mission ! 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.       77 

The  Deacon  was  already  working  extra  hours 
for  his  prize  scholarship  exams.,  and  Averill  had 
been  for  a  week  particularly  careful  not  to  disturb 
him,  and  particularly  anxious  to  give  to  his  chum 
the  aid  and  assistance  of  his  own  more  brilliant 
scholarship.  The  "  digs."  to  a  man  had  been 
confident  that  Averill  could  have  the  scholar 
ship  almost  for  the  asking,  but  Averill,  when  the 
time  came,  seemed  too  listless  to  enter  the 
competition,  and  evidently  preferred  his  chum's 
ambitions  to  his  own.  For  a  week  he  had  done 
no  reading  for  it, —  indeed  he  had  done  little  or 
no  work  of  any  kind.  He  had  gone  into  reci 
tation  after  recitation  entirely  unprepared,  and 
once  or  twice  narrowly  escaped  making  a  dis 
graceful  fizzle. 

The  Deacon  had  warned  his  chum  and  had 
taken  him  seriously  to  task  for  his  singular 
lapse  from  his  usual  studious  habits.  But  his 
short,  sharp  admonitions  to  return  to  the  path 
of  rectitude  had  been  lost  on  Averill,  who 
seemed  at  times  so  ill,  so  enervated,  and  so  de 
pressed  that  the  good  Deacon  almost  feared  he 
was  about  to  come  down  with  a  fever. 

But  a  man  cramming  heart  and  soul  for  a  se 
vere  examination,  working  steadily  eighteen 


78  Yale  Yarns. 

hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,  is  the  most  utterly 
selfish  being  in  the  world.  His  strain  and  stress 
of  mind  bent  on  the  accumulation  of  details, 
and  the  filling  the  storehouse  of  his  memory 
with  an  enormous  variety  of  unnecessary  facts, 
which  he  is  to  use  once  and  forget  ever  after 
ward,  compel  him  to  concentrate  all  his  forces 
upon  himself,  and  to  forget  his  friends  and  his 
surroundings. 

Deacon  Demarest  had  a  nervous  irritated 
sense  that  all  was  not  well  with  Averill,  but  the 
overpowering  feeling  was  of  high  indignation 
that  at  a  time  so  trying  to  him,  his  chum  should 
seize  the  opportunity  to  have  such  distress. 
Averill's  very  self-repression,  his  silence,  his 
occasional  sighs,  made  the  Deacon  break  out 
once  or  twice  raging, — as  men  will  savagely 
growl  who  have  had  too  little  sleep  and  too 
much  nervous  strain  for  a  fortnight.  Ho\v 
could  he  gather  in  the  fine  points  of  the  Cyro- 
pcedia,  or  master  the  profound  meaning  of  the 
(Edipus  Tyrannus,  or  pursue  his  Quintus  Curti- 
us,  knowing  and  feeling  the  burden  of  his  chum's 
unuttered,  and  apparently  unutterable,  sorrow  ? 

Two  men  living  so  closely  together  as  chums 
in  college  act  and  react  on  each  other,  pro- 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.       79 

foundly,  like  man  and  wife.  Averill  endured 
these  outbreaks  without  a  murmur.  Some 
times  he  absented  himself  for  long  periods ; 
sometimes  he,  expressed  himself  sententiously 
in  his  brief  phrase,  TO  Iniri^dv  padiov  effTir 
— to  find  fault  is  easy, — but  never  resented 
Demarest's  nervous  bitterness ;  once  he  put  his 
hand  quietly  on  Demarest's  shoulder  and  gently 
patted  it.  It  brought  the  moisture  to  the 
"  Deacon's  "  near-sighted  old  eyes,  and  brought 
him  abruptly  to  his  feet,  with  a  sigh  and  a 
"  God  forgive  my  outrageous  temper!  "  Then 
he  'd  shake  Averill's  hand  heartily,  and  Averil 
would  sit  staring  at  him  with  his  dark  speaking 
eyes,  full  of  affection  and  full  of  strange  dread, 
listless  and  inert. 

Demarest  looked  up  and  said  suddenly,  one 
day  :  "  There  's  a  secret,  Bob,  which  lies  heavy 
on  your  heart ;  I  have  felt  the  burden  of  it  for 
days ;  but  the  exam.,  Bob — 

"  I  know  ;  and  it  will  keep  !  " 

"  You  will  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  after  your  trouble  is  over,  old  boy." 

"  If  you  cared  to  tell  me  now,  perhaps  it 
would  be  better,  I  should  n't  be  worried." 

"  No,  there  is  time  enough." 


8o  Yale  Yarns. 

The  Deacon  looked  at  his  chum  for  a 
moment,  then  plunged  into  his  Plato,  with  a 
sigh,  and  a  grit  of  his  teeth.  If  there  was  any 
one  in  the  world,  he  wondered,  so  unselfish,  so 
considerate  as  his  chum  ?  But  his  business  now 
was  with  the  profane  old  pagans,  and,  well,  he 
remembered  that  Bob's  secret  would  keep. 

And  the  secret  ? 

Averill  with  a  half  dozen  "  Dwight  Hall 
heelers,"  as  they  were  called  by  the  Paige- 
Horner-Barrington  crowd — the  swell  crowd, — 
ran  a  little  mission  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city, 
a  mission  which,  as  some  of  these  devoted 
Christians  began  to  feel,  seemed  to  be  hardly 
more  than  a  resting-place  each  Sunday  for  the 
lowest  order  of  the  species  tramp.  The  good 
they  did,  the  words  they  spoke,  of  how  little 
effect !  It  was  almost  heart-breaking  some 
times,  to  see  the  same  old  "  bums,"  after  trying 
more  or  less,  to  lead  a  better  life,  come  tum 
bling  down  again  into  the  gutter,  and  be  forced 
to  be  lifted  up  once  more  by  main  strength  and 
hard  praying !  Averill  seemed  to  understand 
the  poor  lost  creatures  better  than  any  one  else. 
It  was  never  his  habit  to  rebuke  or  admonish 
or  talk  down  to  them.  He  'd  simply  speak  to 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.      8 1 

them  as  if  he  were  down  there  in  the  mire  with 
them,  struggling  upwards  with  them,  he  and 
they  together  ;  he  'd  say  it  was  hard  to  give  up 
the  drink,  and  sigh,  just  as  if  he  himself  felt  it 
as  keenly  true  as  they,  poor  wretches. 

"  Ah,  my  lads,"  said  "  Little  Jack"  Horner, 
who,  one  day,  with  "  Boots  "  Paige  strolled  into 
the  mission  to  be  amused  and  came  away  very 
silent  and  much  impressed,  and  related  what 
they  had  seen,  in  "  Laze  "  Aldrich's  room. 
"  Ah,  my  lads,  if  you  could  have  heard  that  fine 
Grecian,  the  best  Greek  scholar  by  a  thousand 
yards  in  the  class,  far  away  and  beyond  any 
thing  /  ever  supposed  possible  ;  have  you  heard 
Averill  in  the  Antigone  ?  Well,  I  Ve  heard  him 
in  the  Antigone  and  I've  heard  him  speaking  to 
half  a  dozen  old  '  bums.'  It  was  n't  eloquence, 
it  was  something  higher.  They  'd  been  drunk 
for  a  week,  and  turned  up  at  the  mission 
because  it  was  warm,  and  they  got  a  cup  of  hot 
coffee  and  a  biscuit,  and  Bob  Averill  spoke  to 
them.  '  Boots '  and  I  sat  riveted  in  our  seats." 

There  was  a  short  pause. 

"  Little  Jack  "  seemed  strangely  agitated,  and 
they  told  him  to  go  right  on  and  not  get  into  a 
funk. 


82  Yale  Yarns. 

"  If  he  had  been  inspired,  he  would  have 
spoken  just  so.  Temperance  ?  " — "  Little  Jack  " 
made  a  contemptuous  face.  "  No,  no  ;  it  was 
something  like  this,  but  I  can't  give  you  the 
tenderness,  the  gentleness,  the  real  goodness 
of  it.  *  We  have  a  hard  life,  have  n't  we, 
friends? — and  we  drink  to  get  out  of  it  ;  life  is 
what  we  are  trying  to  get  away  from,  and  life 
is  bitter,  cruel,  and  hard  to  most  of  us  ;  we  Ve 
had  our  troubles,  God  knows ;  no  shelter  over 
our  heads  some  of  these  cold  nights,  and  the 
drink  is  shelter ;  no  coats  to  keep  the  cold  out, 
drink  is  a  sort  of  overcoat  for  a  time ;  we  re 
member  some  happy  days  in  the  past :  we  had 
a  home  once, — the  drink  makes  us  not  care  for 
them  now ;  we  remember  a  woman's  pleading 
face,  mother  or  wife  ;  oh,  the  drink  drowns  out 
that  sweet  face  too  !  We  forget,  we  don't  care ; 
then  comes  the  memory  of  a  little  child  we 
once  held  in  our  arms, — our  little  child,  and  it 
laughed  as  we  held  it.  Oh  !  the  drink  drowns 
out  all  recollection  of  the  day  we  held  it  and  it 
died  in  our  arms;  and  the  drink  is  a  good 
thing,  it  makes  us  forget,  ancl  it  takes  us  out  of 
life  ;  and  if  we  were  good  workmen  once,  the 
drink  makes  us  glad  we  're  out  of  it,  out  of  work, 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.      8 


o 


out  of  everything,  out  of  life.  And  so  may  we 
not  just  as  well  die  ?  Let  us  not  care  for  those 
who  are  near  to  us, — let  us  drink, — get  more 
drink, — more  drink, — and  so  out  of  life  and 
into  the  night  of  nights.  .  .  .'  The  hobos 
hung  on  his  words  as  if  they  were  golden 
ducats ;  I  never  saw  anything  like  it, — so  inex 
pressibly  mournful, — so  hopeless, — so  tearless  ; 
then  an  expression  of  joy  and  peace  leapt  into 
his  fine  intellectual  face.  *  But  no  !  I  say, — 
I  can't  die  yet !  I  don't  want  to  die !  I  want 
life, — but  the  right  kind.  I  want  happiness — a 
home.  All  I  had  once,  everything. — as  it  was  • 
I  want  life, — as  it  was,  as  it  was ! ' 

"  '  How  can  this  be  done  ?  '  Then  of  course, 
he  gave  'em  religion,  hot  and  strong,  and  the 
pledge  on  top  of  it." 

"  Little  Jack  "  persuaded  a  number  of  fellows 
to  go  down  to.  the  mission  the  Sunday  follow 
ing,  and  hear  Averill. 

"  Now,  if  he  doesn't  persuade  you  chaps  to 
sign  the  pledge  in  fifteen  minutes,  I  'm  a  liar.'' 
said  "  Little  Jack." 

Aldrich  said :  "  Well,  I  hope  we  may  get  our 
money's  worth.  I  'm  giving  up  a  half-promised 


84  Yale  Yarns. 

call  on  some  easy  people,  who  are  always  at 
home  Sunday  afternoon." 

"  Yes,  I  hope  it 's  all  you  and  *  Boots '  say  it 
is,"  yawned  Keith,  as  he  rose  to  put  on  his 
overcoat.  "  But  I  Ve  never  been  in  a  regular 
'  bum  '  mission, — it  must  be  rather  amusing 
to  see  some  of  the  old  tramps  on  the  anxious 
seat !  " 

"  Any  pretty  girls  go  down  there  ?  "  asked 
Aldrich,  as  they  sauntered  across  the  Campus 
toward  Chapel  Street. 

"  No,"  said  Paige  "  It  is  n't  a  suitable  place 
for  the  queens ;  it  's  run  entirely  by  Dwight 
Hall  heelers." 

"  I  don't  see  what  we  are  going  down  there 
for,"  laughed  Keith. 

"  I  assure  you,  AverilTs  talk  to  those  fellows 
is  wonderful !  "  said  "  Little  Jack  "  earnestly. 
"  You  wait,  and  decide  for  yourselves." 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  's  one  of  your  jokes,  '  Jack.'  " 

And  they  went  on  down  the  street. 

The  mission  was  pretty  well  crowded  by  the 
time  the  party  got  there.  The  day  was  damp 
and  chilly,  and  an  unpleasantly  odorous  steam 
aros.e  from  several  old  "  bums  "  who  had  seated 
themselves  close  to  the  hot  stove.  A  number 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.      85 

of  students  were  engaged  in  teaching  some  of 
the  younger  hoodlums,  and  Averill  himself  was 
seated  in  the  centre  of  a  class  of  tough-looking, 
ill-kempt  women.  The  party  entered  and  took 
seats  at  the  rear  of  the  hall,  and  presently 
Averill  stepped  up  on  the  platform  and  gave 
out  a  hymn,  reading  a  verse : 

"  If  through  oft  troubled  seas 
Toward  Heaven  we  calmly  sail, 
Blest  be  the  tempest,  kind  the  storm, 
That  drives  us  nearer  home." 

He  seemed  paler  and  more  wretched  than 
usual  that  day,  as  if  some  unusual  tale  of  woe 
and  sorrow  had  been  confided  to  him, — more 
than  he  could  bear.  It  was  evident  that  the 
poor  deluded  tramps  and  worthies  who  tried, 
with  quavering  voices,  to  sing  the  hymn, 
looked  up  to  Averill  as  they  did  to  no  other 
teacher  in  the  mission.  They  pressed  about 
him  for  his  sympathy, — and  his  simple  words 
which  came  so  direct  from  his  heart. 

As  the  hymn  closed,  and  the  music  of  the 
melodeon  died  away,  a  scuffling  noise  was 
heard  at  the  door,  and  loud  shouts,  as  of  boys 
in  the  street,  accompanied  by  oaths  and  execra- 


86  Yale  Yarns. 

tions,  preceded  the  inrush  of  a  collarless  and 
hatless  old  tramp,  evidently  far  gone  with 
liquor.  He  wore  an  overcoat,  dirty  and  cov 
ered  with  mud,  as  if  he  had  been  rolled  over 
and  over  in  the  street,  and  had  a  cut  over  one 
eye  which  bled,  and  disfigured  what  might 
have  been,  under  other  circumstances,  a  fine, 
intellectual  face.  He  burst  into  the  hall  and 
advanced,  like  some  ugly  wild  animal,  half  way 
down  the  aisle  toward  the  platform,  where  he 
paused  and  looked  crazily  around,  and  steadied 
himself  against  the  back  of  a  seat. 

"  Where  's  my  son  ? — my  son,  they  told  me 
he  was  here?" 

He  rolled  his  bleary  eyes  around  the  room, 
and  his  unshaven,  grizzly,  bloody  face  took  on 
an  expression  of  almost  diabolical  hate. 

"  Where  's  my  good  son  ? — (hie)— my  pet 
boy — my  dawlin'  s-son,  who  they  say  is  such 
a  wond'ful  scholar  ?  .  .  .  I  want  him  to 
c-come  with  me." 

The  stillness  in  the  little  hall  was  the  stillness 
of  death.  Would  any  one  respond  to  such  a 
call?  "  Put  him  out!"  cried  a  number  of 
toughs  near  him,  and  rising  ready  to  do  so,  if 
Mr.  Averill  should  give  the  command. 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.      87 

"  Shell  we  bounce  him,  sir?"  called  out  a 
seedy  old  bum,  with  a  bob  and  curtsey  toward 
Averill,  who  stood  mutely  staring  at  the  in 
truder,  as  if  in  a  trance.  "  Shell  we  do  'im  up, 
as  he  'd  oughter  be  did  up  fer  a  tryin'  fer  ter 
bust  de  meetin*  ?  " 

"  Say,"  said  another  bloated  old  derelict, 
who  had  floated  without  sail  or  rudder  on  life's 
tempestuous  sea  for  many  a  long  year.  "  Say, 
boss,  le'  me  trow  'im  out  de  winder,  an'  chuck 
'im  inter  de  nex'  street.  .  .  .  'E  ain't  no 
Christian, — no  'e  ain't.  'E  ain't  no  Christian, 
such  as  us !  " 

"  Bounce  de  kite  !  "  screamed  a  sodden-look 
ing  woman,  with  long,  bedraggled  hair.  "  'E  *s 
ready  fer  a  scrap,  'e  is.  .  .  .  'E  ain't  no 
Christian  !  'E  orter  be  fired,  so  'e  ort !  " 

"  Jump  on  de  bloke  wid  yer  two  feet,"  bawled 
another  tramp.  "  An'  trod  'im  down  !  'E  ain't 
no  Christian,  like  as  us !  'E  don't  git  no 
carfy  'ere!  " 

Suddenly,  Averill  straightened  himself  up, 
then  to  the  astonishment  and  consternation  of 
all  in  the  room,  stretched  out  his  hands. 

"  Father  !  Oh,  my  poor  fatlicr  !  "  he  cried, 
in  agony,  and  his  head  sunk  in  his  hands. 


88  Yale  Yarns. 

Aldrich,  Paige,  and  "  Little  Jack  "  were  on 
their  feet  with  excitement.  They  saw  Averill 
go  to  meet  the  intruder ;  they  saw  the  latter 
draw  back  as  if  to  strike  him  ;  then  they  saw 
the  drunken  man  reel  and  fall  in  a  fit  on  the 
floor,  his  son  bending  over  him. 

Averill  looked  up  with  an  expression  of  ex 
treme  humility. 

"  Friends/'  he  said,  with  an  unsteady  voice, 
"  this  poor  man  is  my  own  father, — once  a  kind 
heart,  a  good  man, — once  a  student  where  I  am 
now  a  student.  .  .  .  See  what  drink  has 
brought  to  him — and  to  me !  It  has  caused  the 
death  of  my  mother  through  sorrow  ;  it  has 
driven  his  friends  from  him — he  has  sunk  down, 
down  to  utter  ruin.  My  poor  father  !  My  own 
father — who  used  to  carry  me  in  his  arms !  " 

The  words  were  simple,  spoken  from  the 
heart.  To  those  who  knew  Averill  they  were 
profoundly  touching.  The  cynical  Aldrich  was 
the  first  to  go  forward  and  help  carry  the  life 
less  body  into  an  adjoining  room,  and  "  Little 
Jack  "  hurried  out  after  a  doctor.  Other  stu 
dents  kept  the  meeting  in  order  and  endeav 
ored  to  utilize  the  episode  for  the  benefit  of  the 
other  poor  victims  of  rum  in  the  room. 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.      89 

Averill  knelt  over  his  father's  body,  chafing 
his  hands  and  loosening  his  overcoat.  It  was 
seen  that  beneath  it  he  wore  only  a  begrimed 
red  flannel  shirt.  They  asked  the  son  no  ques 
tions  after  his  father,  they  only  pressed  his 
hand  in  sympathy. 

"  Little  Jack  "  soon  returned  with  a  doctor, 
who,  as  soon  as  he  had  restored  the  drunkard 
to  consciousness,  rang  for  an  ambulance  and 
had  him  taken  to  the  hospital. 

"  It  's  a  bad  case  of  alcoholism,"  said  the 
doctor,  as  the  ambulance  drove  rapidly  away. 
But  with  rest  and  quiet  he  may  recover.  You 
seem  to  take  a  special  interest  in  this  case,  Mr. 
Averill?" 

"Oh,  we  all  do,"  put  in  ''Little  Jack," 
quickly.  "  I  will  gladly  do  all  I  can  to  get  the 
poor  man  on  his  feet  again." 

"  These  fellows  are  hard  to  cure,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  Temptation  stands  beckoning  to 
them  at  every  street  corner." 

Poor  Averill  sighed  and  looked  down.  "  I 
think  I  will  walk  over  to  the  hospital,  fellows," 
he  said,  quietly.  "  He  will  be  glad  to  have  me 
near  him,  perhaps " 

"  If  such  a  man  could  be  kept  in  an  asylum 


90  Yale  Yarns. 

for  a  few  years  or,  better,  sent  on  a  long  sea 
voyage " 

"  A  sea  voyage !  Why,  that  's  dead  easy 
fruit ;  I  '11  write  to  my  father,"  huskily  said 
"  Boots  "  Paige,  who  had  been  very  silent. 

Averill  looked  up  quickly  at  the  emphasis  he 
put  on  the  "  my."  He  caught  the  friendliness 
of  it  and  the  tears  sprang  into  his  eyes. 

"  God  knows  how  kind "  Then  he 

turned  away,  quickly,  and  in  a  moment  Averill 
had  gone  up  the  street  with  "  Little  Jack." 

"  Now,  then,"  said  Aldrich,  cum  anctoritate. 
"  Not  a  word  about  all  this  in  college."  The 
other  students,  four  Dwight  Hall  heelers,  had 
come  out,  after  locking  the  door  of  the  meeting 
house.  "  Paige  and  I  will  manage  to  get  Ave- 
rill's  father  out  of  town  when  he  gets  out  of  the 
hospital,  and  we  '11  make  it  a  point  to  get  him 
on  a  vessel.  I  knew  a  drunkard  once  who  was 
cured  by  a  sea  voyage.  Poor  old  Bob  Averill 
— he  's  a  trump, — I — I  think  I  would  have  been 
coward  enough  to  disown  the  old  man " 

"  So  would  I  !  "  said  Paige.  "  Think  how 
Averill  must  have  suffered  !  " 

"  For  two  weeks,"  spoke  up  one  of  the  mis 
sion  teachers,  not  a  student,  "  the  old  drunkard 


With  the  D  wight  PI  all  Heelers.      9 1 

has  been  here  in  town,  begging  and  threatening 
his  son.  He  has  given  his  father,  from  time  to 
time,  money  which  was  spent  in  rum.  Poor 
Averill !  His  father  threatened «  to  make  a 
scene  on  the  Campus, — he  was  up  there  drunk 
one  day,  but  Robert  did  not  know  of  it, — he 
did  not  then  proclaim  his  relationship, — for 
AveruTs  sake  this  had  better  be  kept  a  secret." 

The  mission  work  of  the  "  crowd "  was  so 
unaffectedly  and  tactfully  done  that  Averill 
could  not  refuse  it.  Not  a  word  was  known  of 
the  old  reprobate  in  College,  and  when  Averill, 
"  Boots  "  Paige,  and  "  Little  Jack,"  accompa 
nied  by  a  neatly-dressed,  middle-aged  invalid, 
went  to  New  York  two  weeks  later,  not  a  soul 
was  aware  of  their  visit.  They  got  old  Averill 
on  a  sailing  vessel  bound  for  Japan,  the  captain 
of  which  was  a  sturdy  teetotaler. 

"  Why,  let  him  stay  by  the  ship  fer  two  years 
an'  not  taste  it,  an'  he  's  sure  to  come  out  a  free 
man  !  "  he  said  heartily.  "  An'  I  mean  to  keep 
him  at  work  too.  No  loafin'  on  my  ship,  not 
for  no  man  !  He  shall  do  a  lot  of  figgerin' — an' 
a  leetel  haulin',  too, — yes,  sir !  " 

Bob  Averill's  father  was  willing  to  go,  and 
make  a  last  effort  to  reform.  They  parted 


92  Yale  Yarns. 

with  affection,  and  young  Averill  went  back  to 
College  much  cheered  in  mind. 

His  chum,  good  Deacon  Demarest,  received 
him  with  a  smile  and  a  hearty  slap  on  the  back. 

"  I  've  got  the  scholarship,  Bob ! — an'  my 
mind  's  at  rest.  I  was  a  brute  to  you,  old  boy, 
all  those  weeks  of  cramming,  forgive  me,  will 
you  ?  " 

Averill  shook  his  hand  heartily,  his  pure, 
sensitive  face  illumined  with  intense  happiness. 
If  any  man's  soul  shone  through  his  eyes, 
Averill's  did.  He  had  passed  through  the  val 
ley  of  the  shadow,  and  come  out  safely  on  the 
other  side. 

"  And  now, — I  'm  all  through  with  worry  and 
trouble — tell  me  yours."  The  Deacon's  earnest 
face  grew  serious,  and  his  voice  dropped. 
"  I  am  the  closest  friend  you  have,  Bob.  Tell 
me  your  secret  ?  " 

Averill  thought  a  moment,  then  hesitated. 
Then  his  face  broke  into  a  radiant  smile.  "  I 
have  n't  any  secret  now  to  tell,  Deacon !  " 

Then  they  both  stood  a  moment  looking  out 
of  that  old  South  Middle  window,  on  the  Cam 
pus,  and  down  upon  the  throngs  of  students 
passing  to  and  fro,  upon  one  of  the  queer  old 


With  the  Dwight  Hall  Heelers.      93 

sweeps  laden  with  broom  and  dust-pan,  upon 
the  picture  of  noisy,  busy,  student  life,  and 
the  Deacon,  catching  sight  of  Paige,  "  Little 
Jack "  Homer,  Aldrich,  and  a  few  of  the 
"  crowd,"  who  were  amusing  themselves  with 
snowballing  each  other,  laughing  and  shouting, 
said  sadly  : 

"  I  pity  those  easy-going  fellows  who  are 
always  in  such  high  spirits,  and  who  never 
think  of  the  suffering  which  goes  on  about 
them  ;  who  never,  even  by  accident,  do  any 
good  to  any  one." 

Averill  interrupted  quickly.  "  I  don't  think 
we  do  those  fellows  justice,"  he  said.  "  Please 
don't  say  anything  against  them.  I  think  I 
know  them  better  than  you." 


THE  "  DWARF'S"  PROM. 

"  BOOTS  "  PAIGE,  "  Tad  "  Nelson,  *  Great  " 
Barrington,  and  "  Laze  "  Aldrich  were  feeling 
fine  as  fiddles  one  Sunday  afternoon  in  January. 
They  had  just  finished  lunch  at  the  Club,  which 
consisted  largely  of  a  "  cold  hot  and  hot  lob," 
and  Boots  had  drawn  out  of  his  case  four 
large,  long,  and  strong  Invincibies  and  presented 
them,  and  they  were  enjoying  their  coffee  and 
smoke,  cum  dignitate,  and  talking  about  the 
Prom,  which  was  to  come  off  the  week  fol 
lowing. 

The  general  idea  was,  if  possible,  to  get 
"  Dwarf  "  Sprague  into  his  evening  suit,  and 
to  attend  the  Prom.,  and  furthermore,  if  possi 
ble,  get  him  spooney  on  some  "  queen,"  and 
have  some  fun  out  of  him  at  the  ball.  There 
was  a  bottle  for  the  successful  persuader  of 
Sprague. 

While  they  were  talking  about  him,  as  was 
the  case  with  the  devil,  he  entered  the  room, 
and  sat  down  near  them. 
94 


The  "Dwarf's"  From.  %  95 

Dwarf  Sprague,  sometimes  called  "  The 
Honest,"  confessed  that  he  had  once  been  par 
tially  taught  to  dance  by  a  certain  cousin,  and 
that  after  an  exhaustive  effort  one  evening,  she 
had  asked  him  if  he  imagined  he  was  carrying 
a  foot-ball  through  a  Princeton  rush  line,  or 
kicking  a  goal, — or  what  ?  His  prancing  step, 
she  intimated,  was  perhaps  better  adapted  to 
the  "  gridiron  "  than  the  drawing-room  floor. 
"  There  is  less  of  a  crash, — in  falling,"  she  said. 
Dwarf  admitted  that  he  believed  his  cousin 
guilty  of  a  pun. 

"Since  then,"  he  added,  "I  have  never 
danced.  I  Ve  sat  out  and  yawned  '  grave 
yards  *  and  looked  grouchy." 

"  Boots "  Paige  chronicled  a  passage  in 
Sprague's  life  at  his  father's  cottage  at  Bar 
Harbor  the  preceding  summer. 

•  "There  was  a  musical  or  something,"  said 
he ;  "  say  thirty  people.  Dwarf  was  all  in  his 
glory  that  evening.  I  saw  him  stupidly  stand 
ing  in  front  of  a  girl  a  long  time,  and  his  index 
finger  behind  his  back,  beckoning  to  me  for 
help.  It  was  pathetic,  but  we  none  of  us  went 
near  him.  He  could  n't  tear  himself  away  from 
that  girl.  He  kept  up  his  signals,  and  he  hardly 


96  Yale  Yarns. 

spoke  a  word  to  the  girl  but  '  yes '  and  *  no/ 
Finally  my  sister  took  pity  and  went  to  his  re 
lief.  The  goat  said,  in  his  agitation,  '  Thank 
you  so  much ! '  and  the  girl  cut  him  dead  the 
rest  of  the  evening." 

The  rest  laughed. 

"  That 's  right,"  acknowledged  Sprague.  "She 
asked  me  about  '  boating/  and  I  had  n't  a  word 
to  say." 

"  Of  course  not.  Oh,  inexperienced  member 
of  two  winning  crews — 

"  Ah,  but  she  asked  me  if  I  would  n't  see — er 
— that  the  crews  wore  coats  in  future  when  in 
a  race." 

"That 's  a  different  matter." 

"  It  gave  me  a  blue  funk,"  said  Sprague,  un 
easily.  "  I  felt  like  sinking  through  the  floor, 
you  know." 

Tad  Nelson  said  his  two  sisters  were  coming 
on  and  going  to  make  a  plunge  at  the  Prom., 
and  he  would  coach  them  not  to  speak  of  ath 
letics.  "You  'd  like  my  sister  Kate,  Dwarf." 

"  Would  I  ?  "  asked  Sprague,  vaguely. 

"  She  's  not  pretty,  but  she  's  nice." 

"  Oh,"  said  Sprague,  "  I  'm  glad  she  's  nice. 
Sorry  I'm  not  going  to  be  on  hand." 


The  "Dwarfs  "  Prom.  97 

"Why  not?" 

"  Oh,  too  busy." 

"See  here,  Dwarf,  Kate  has  asked  particu 
larly  to  meet  you.  She  saw  your  picture  in  a 
New  York  paper  last  year.  Now,  old  man,  I 
don't  want  to  disappoint  her.  I  said  you  would 
be  at  the  Prom.,  and  when  I  promise  poor  little 
Kate  anything  it 's  got  to  go,  see  ?  She  was  ill 
nearly  all  last  winter,  and  she  was  made  ill  by 
rescuing  a  child  from  drowning  on  the  ice — I 
should  say  a  break  in  the  ice — on  the  river  at 
Yonkers.  She  is  n't  at  all  pretty,  and  she  's 
small ;  and  she  won't  make  you  talk,  and  I  '11 
coach  her  about  boating;  and  really,  old  man, 
I  don't  want  to  disappoint  her,  you  know." 

Dwarf  Sprague  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair 
and  swallowed  his  coffee. 

"Tell  me  about  that  affair,"  said  he.  "She 
pulled  a  child  out  of  the  water,  did  she?  How 
big  a  child  ?  " 

This  was  not  what  the  Dwarf  probably  meant 
to  ask,  but  he  was  interested.  That  was  some 
thing,  and  Tad  Nelson  followed  up  his  ad 
vantage. 

"  Oh,  a  little  boy,  I  believe — a  little  fool  of  a 
boy.  She  was  skating,  and  there  were  plenty 


98  Yale  Yarns. 

of  men  about,  they  said,  but  she  was  the  only 
one  who  dared  go  on  the  cracking  ice ;  and  she 
held  the  child's  head  out  of  water,  and  got  into 
the  water  herself  and  got  chilled,  and  then  they 
got  planks  and  brought  them  both  ashore.  We 
all  thought  it  awfully  brave  of  her — a  mere  lit 
tle  girl,  you  know — but  she  herself,  she  made 
light  of  it." 

Sprague  did  n't  say  anything.  Boots  Paige 
winked  at  Tad.  The  latter  winked  back.  The 
Dwarf  rose  after  a  minute  or  two  and  went  into 
another  room,  ostensibly  to  read  what  Harper  s 
Weekly's  bland  young  man  had  to  say  that 
week  about  college  athletics.  Presently  he 
wandered  back  and  took  Nelson  aside. 

"  I  say,  Tad,  she  held  the  child's  head  up, 
did  she,  and  those  damned,  pusillanimous,  con 
temptible  cads,  I  suppose,  they  just  watched 
her,  eh? — just  watched  her?  Stood  on  the 
bank,  I  dare  say — got  into  a  damned  safe 
place,  I  dare  say,  eh? — and  watched  a  girl — 
a  little  girl,  too — watched  her  save  the  kid's 
life  !  "  He  was  red  with  rage. 

Sprague,  who  had  probably  saved  a  dozen  or 
so,  first  and  last,  from  drowning,  at  various 
times  and  places, — he  was  a  noted  swimmer, — 


The  "Dwarf's  "  Prow.  99 

seemed  to  feel  the  ignominiousness  of  the  be 
havior  of  his  fellow-men  very  keenly. 

"  And — she  wants  you  to  dance  with  her  at 
the  Prom.,"  said  Nelson. 

"  Tad  ! — I  can't  dance  ;  but,  I  say,  I — I  don't 
want  to  disappoint  that  little  girl.  Not  pretty, 
— small,  and  nice,  you  said.  Can  she  hold  her 
tongue,  Tad  ?  Can  she  keep  her  head  up,  and 
sit  up  well,  and  wait  for  orders,  I  mean,  of 
course, — ha — ha — you  know.  And  she  's  been 
ill !  I  say,  it  's  a  damned  outrage  that  any 
dastardly  man  could  let  her  do  what  he 
did!" 

"  I  want  her  to  have  a  good  time,  and  as 
she  's  set  her  heart  on  seeing  you  there " 

"  I  suppose  seeing  me  somewhere  else — say 
at  your  room — would  n't  do  ?  Give  a  tea,  old 
man.  How  would  that  do?  " 

"No.  That  won't  do.  You  Ve  got  to  do 
this  thing  for  my  sake,  Dwarf.  She  will  tell 
you  herself " 

"  I  was  n't  going." 

"  But  you  will,  now  ?  "  asked  Tad,  earnestly. 

Dwarf  hesitated  a  moment.  "  Well,  yes, 
just  for  your  sake,  Tad  ; — and  hers.  I — I  like 
to  think  of  that  little  girl." 


ioo  Yale  Yarns. 

Tad  Nelson  went  back  to  his  friends  with  a 
broad  grin  and  Sprague  left  the  club. 

"That  was  clever  of  you,  Tad,"  drawled 
Lazy  Aldrich,  puffing  out  a  cloud  of  smoke. 
"What  the  deuce  will  you  do  when  he  dis 
covers  the  ruse  ? — and  offers  to  thrash  you  for 
lying?" 

"  Well,  my  sisters  are  coming  on,"  laughed 
Tad. 

"  Coach  one  of  them  to  tell  the  same  tale 
about  the  life-saving  act — 

"  Better  say  nothing,"  said  Boots.  "  It  will 
confuse  Dwarf  more.  More  fun  for  us, — see. 
It  will  be  immense  to  see  him  perform — 

"  He  might  bolt.  But,  fellows,  I  think  as  I 
made  him  promise  to  be  on  hand,  the  cold 
*  bot '  is  on  you." 

And  it  was  Sunday  afternoon  too  ! ! 

I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  "  Prom."  week 
at  New  Haven.  I  will  not  describe  the  class 
germans,  the  receptions,  the  jolly  little  suppers 
in  jolly  little  college  rooms ;  I  will  not  even 
make  a  "bluff,"  as  they  say,  at  the  ball  itself. 
"  It 's  a  great  week  for  the  girls  !  "  as  Barney, 
the  hackman,  has  often  said,  and  they  flock  into 
town  with  their  pretty  fluffy  wings,  and  their 


The  '  'Dwarf 's ?)  P^om.  1 6 1 

amusing  little  "  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  were  a 
man  !  "  And  they  look  down  from  the  chapel 
gallery,  and  they  are  found  in  the  library,  and 
they  are  seen  on  the  crosswalks,  and  they  ex 
plore  the  "  gym.,"  and  they  have  such  a  good 
time,  and  they  never  are  tired,  and  they  perch 
on  your  window  seat,  and  they  try  on  your  box 
ing-gloves,  and  they  try  your  foils,  and  they 
turn  their  backs  on  your  photographs  of  ballet 
dancers,  and  they  ask  when  you  study,  and 
they  say  they  "  know  "  Latin,  and  they  talk  of 
new  books,  and  they  so  admire  Trilby,  and  they 
ask  is  n't  Gibson  in  Life  just  splendid  !  And 
tlien  they  sigh  and  say  again,  "  Heigho  !  I  wish 
I  were  a  man  !  " 

And  from  the  looks  of  things  at  the  end  of 
this  remarkable  century  they  will  soon  get 
their  wish  ! 

Perhaps  the  sedate  Smith,  known  as  a 
"  greasy  grind,"  has  no  such  pleasant  experi 
ence  of  Prom.  week.  His  mother  and  sister 
may  visit  him.  If  so,  they  don't  "visit"  the 
Prom.  Life  to  them  is  too  earnest,  serious, 
and  hard  for  gaiety,  for  dances,  for  fun.  Plain 
Elizabeth  Smith,  with  sad  eyes,  wanders  about 
the  yard  with  her  grouchy  brother,  and  they 


:  ti  ^Ytile  Yarns. 


discuss  poor  Uncle  Henry's  lunacy,  or  Cousin 
Emma's  foolish  marriage,  or  sister  Charlotte's 
high  stand  at  Mt.  Holyoke,  and  the  prospect  of 
poor  Smith's  getting  something  to  do  just  as 
soon  as  he  graduates.  Not  very  jolly,  but  dead 
earnest  !  —  which  is  much  better! 

Prom,  week  came  that  year  with  a  furious 
blizzard-like  storm,  but  the  pretty  queens 
braved  it,  pneumonia,  grip,  and  all,  and  ap 
peared  in  such  array  and  with  such  a  fusillade 
of  eyes  at  the  ball  itself,  that  the  students 
yielded  at  once,  without  a  second  fire. 

Ah  me,  they  have  "  yielded  "  this  way  for 
twenty  years  ! 

Tad  Nelson  arrived  a  little  late  with  his 
mother  and  sisters.  The  floor  was  swinging 
under  Lander's  conception  of  a  Walteufel 
waltz,  which  was  to  be  followed  by  a  Sousa 
two-step.  How  perfectly  glorious  it  was  !  The 
blood  tingled  in  one's  veins  at  the  sound. 
Even  Sprague,  fired  by  the  music,  nervously 
pranced  and  charged  back  and  forth  near  the 
entrance,  waiting  for  the  ladies  to  arrive.  How 
much  he  would  have  given  then  to  have  learned 
in  Freshman  year  the  "  light  fantastic."  Some 
body's  words  to  Cromwell  kept  hurrying  through 


The  "Dwarf's"  Prom.  103 

his  mind.  "  Ah,  Dwarf,  hadst  thou  but  learned 
to  dance  in  Freshman  year,  as  well  as  thou 
hast  to  row,  the  girls  and  their  cards  would 
not  have  deserted  thee  at  this,  thy  hour  of 
trial!"  In  his  agitation,  expectancy,  and  re 
gret,  he  struck  his  two  huge  hands  together, 
and  his  lavender  gloves  split  across  the  palms 
and  on  the  back  from  little  finger  to  thumb, 
and  just  then,  lo!  Tad  and  the  ladies  ap 
peared  ! 

Of  course,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to 
thrust  his  hands  behind  his  back,  under  the 
tails  of  his  coat,  and  keep  them  there ! 

Coming  down  in  the  carriage,  Tad  had  said, 
casually :  "  Oh,  by  the  by,  Capt.  Sprague,  of 
the  crew — awfully  good,  honest  fellow — remem 
ber,  girls,  be  sweet  to  him.  He  's  one  of  my 
best  friends.  There  is  one  thing  I  want  to 
impress  upon  you,  if  he  offers  to  shake  hands 
— dont!  He  will  forget  and  crush  your  rings 
into  your  fingers — he  has  a  terrible  grip — 
strongest  man  in  College,  you  know.  Then, 
whatever  he  says,  dont  deny  it.  Let  him  have 
his  say  out." 

"  Well,  he  must  be  a  sort  of  Sandow,"  said 
Kate.  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  like  him " 


IO4  Yale  Yarns. 

"  A  most  remarkable  sort  of  a  young  man, 
indeed  !  "  exclaimed  his  mother. 

"  Just  let  him  say  what  he  pleases.  Possibly, 
Kate,  he'll  give  you  some  sort  of  a  bluff  about 
your  being  known  to  him  by  repute — he  '11  pre 
tend  to  have  read  about  you  in  the  papers,  to 
have  heard  you  Ve  done  some  brave  act,  or 
have  taken  a  prize  at  school — or  something! 
Don't  dispute  him  ;  it  's  his  little  joke — agree 
with  him,  or — or  he  may  insist  on  shaking 
hands.  .  .  .  Ah,  here  we  are  !  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  shall  be  frightened  to  death  at 
him  !  "  said  Nell,  a  tall,  pretty  blonde. 

"  And  I — I  hope  I  can  avoid  him — but  I  see 
his  name  down  on  my  card — oh,  Tad  !  six — 
seven  times ! "  exclaimed  Kate,  a  tall,  pretty 
brunette. 

"  Many  a  girl  is  eating  her  heart  out  to-night, 
just  to  have  a  look  at  him  !  Captain  of  the 
'Varsity  crew — think  of  it !  "  and  Tad  Nelson 
prayed  for  forgiveness  beneath  his  thin  but 
growing  moustache.  As  he  got  out  and  opened 
the  carriage  door  at  the  entrance  to  the  Armory, 
he  said  again,  "  Mind,  now — don't  shake  his 
hand." 

"  I  think  we  'd  better  shake  him,  from  what 


The  "Dwarfs  "  Prom.  105 

you  say,"  laughed  Kate,  merrily,  getting  out. 
"  Tho',  dear  Tad,  I  would  n't  hurt  your  feelings 
for  the  world  !  " 

Almost  the  first  man  they  saw  on  the  way  to 
the  dressing-room  was  the  Dwarf,  hurrying  to 
and  fro,  like  a  mad  animal  in  his  cage,  his 
hands  hid  behind  his  back.  Tad  presented 
him — he  did  not  offer  to  shake,  and  he  seemed 
to  look  from  Kate  to  Nell,  and  back  again  to 
Kate,  as  if  trying  to  see  in  one  of  them  that 
"  plain,  nice  little  girl "  Tad  had  told  him 
about,  "  who  had  saved  the  life  of  that  little 
fool  of  a  boy."  Both  were  tall,  healthy-looking 
young  girls,  and  were  dressed  in  most  becom 
ing  gowns,  with  enormous  fluffy  shoulders. 
Sprague,  greatly  embarrassed,  not  knowing 
anything  better  to  do,  at  last  offered  his  arm 
to  Kate,  who  had  thrown  back  her  opera  cloak, 
and  bolted  with  her  just  as  she  was  onto  the 
ballroom  floor. 

Mrs.  Nelson  put  up  her  lorgnette  in  astonish 
ment.  Tad  was  convulsed  with  laughter. 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  can  he  be  ? "  she 
gasped.  "  Really,— Tad  !  " 

"  Oh,  it  's  only  his  way,  mamma.  He  has 
such  a  taking  way,  you  see !  " 


io6  Yale  Yarns. 

"  But,  pray,  what  will  he  do  with  her  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea !  " 

"  Mamma, — he  was  dreadfully  embarrassed, 
— that  was  all,"  said  Nelly.  "  To  my  mind,  it 
all  looks  very  disagreeably  like  one  of  Tad's 
infamous  practical  jokes." 

They  hurried  to  the  dressing-room  and  dis 
posed  of  their  wraps.  When  they  came  down, 
Tad  presented  Mr.  Paige,  and  Mr.  Aldrich,  and 
Mr.  Horner,  and  Mr.  Barrington,  and  Mr.  Ray 
mond,  and  Mr.  Gardiner,  a  number  of  his 
distinguished  classmates,  whose  names  were 
already  inscribed  on  his  sister's  dance-cards. 
They  entered  the  floor  to  the  time  of  one  of 
Sousa's  spirited  two-steps.  Nellie  was  speedily 
wafted  away  in  the  respectful  arms  of  Boots 
Paige.  They  looked  anxiously  and  in  vain  for 
Kate,  and  Tad  was  dispatched  to  find  her. 

The  "  push  "  was  very  great,  and  the 
"  queens  "  were  out,  of  course,  in  most  daz 
zling  and  overwhelming  numbers.  Tad  Nelson 
edged  his  way  around  to  the  left  of  the  vast 
ballroom  of  bunting  and  evergreen  and  flowers, 
bowing  to  this  one,  dropping  one  of  his  very 
original  compliments  in  the  ear  of  a  blue-eyed 
beauty  : 


The  "Dwarf 's  "  Prom.  107 

"  How  well  you  are  looking  this  evening, 
Miss  Mary  !  " 

Soon  as  he  came  upon  Dixwell  and  Whately, 
two  members  of  the  floor  committee,  who 
seemed  to  be  laughing  over  some  little  private 
joke  of  their  own,  he  asked  anxiously  :  . 

"  Have  you  seen  Sprague  and  my  sister?" 

"Was  it  your  sister?" 

"  Why,— what— 

"  Oh,  nothing — Dwarf  tried  to  dance  the  end 
of  the  waltz,  and  slipped  and  fell  down, — that 's 
all ;  think  he  tore  a  hole  in  your  sister's  dress, 
— and — she  's  over  there  in  the  corner  forgiving 
him,  I  suppose  ;  at  least,  he  's  on  his  knees, — 
and  we  've  had  a  lot  of  fun  already  out  of 
him  !  " 

Tad  looked.  Dwarf  certainly  was  on  his 
knees  over  the  torn  lace  on  Kate's  skirt.  He 
caught  Kate's  imploring  glance  and  hastened 
to  her. 

"  Well !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Come  here  !  "  cried  Kate,  half  in  anger,  half 
laughing,  and  he  leaned  down  his  head.  "  Do 
take  this  crazy  Mr.  Sprague  out  somewhere, 
and — let  him  cool  down  a  little  in  the  snow, 
and  return  to  a  glimmering  of  reason.  Do  you 


io8  Yale  Yarns. 

know  what  he  says  ?  He  's  been  thinking 
about  me  for  six  whole  days, — and  that  he 
knows  all  about  my  rescuing  some  bad  little 
boy  at  Yonkers, — and  he  wishes  he  'd  been 
there, — and  that  if  /  am  plain,  I  'm  nice, — and 
the  kiad  of  girl  he  likes,  and  that  he  has  been 
thinking  and  thinking  and  thinking  about  me  !  " 

Tad  looked  at  Sprague,  who  had  risen  now, 
his  hair  dishevelled,  his  lavender  gloves  in  ruin, 
his  face  bathed  in  perspiration, — and  his  heart 
misgave  him.  Poor,  dear  old  Dwarf  ! 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Sprague,"  said  Kate,  laughing, 
much  relieved  to  take  the  arm  of  her  brother, 
that  you  have  quite  mistaken  the  person  you 
were  talking  to." 

"  Is  n't  this  Kate, — your  nice  little  sister, 
Tad  ?  Great  heavens  !  Have  I  made  a  mis 
take  ?  " 

"  This  is  my  cousin,  Dwarf.  My  sister  could 
not  come.  If  you  had  not  been  so  precipitate, 
Dwarf,  you  might  have — er — er — known  it 
yourself ! " 

Then  Sprague  in  the  handsomest  manner, 
showing  what  a  thorough  gentleman, — what  a 
noble-hearted,  clumsy,  ignorant  old  fellow  he 
was,  said  : 


The  "Dwarfs"  Prom.  109 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  Miss  Nelson.  I  am  very 
sorry, — I  apologize  for  saying  what  I  did.  You 
are  not  at  all  plain,  Miss  Nelson  ;  you  are  not 
even  little.  I  should  have  known, — but  I  'm 
so  fond  of  Tad, — that  I  promised  to  come  to 
the  Prom,  just  to  see  his  nice  little  sister..  Kate, 
and  to  try  and  make  his  nice  little  sister 
have  the  best  time  I  could.  I  am  mortally 
sorry " 

He  looked  so  big,  so  true,  so  handsome,  with 
that  fine  waterman's  bronze  of  his,  which  even 
the  thaws  and  freezings  of  January  cannot 
quite  wear  off,  that  Kate,  eyeing  him  a  mo 
ment,  said  disappointedly,  with  a  slight  quiver 
ing  of  the  lip  : 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Sprague, — but  I  am  that  '  nice' 
little  sister  Kate  !  " 

Dwarf  looked  blankly  at  Tad.  The  latter 
tried  to  laugh,  failed,  dropped  Kate's  hand 
from  his  arm. 

"  Was  there  ever  believing  any  girl ! "  he 
cried,  pretending  great  irritation,  and  marched 
off,  leaving  them  together  again. 

"  But  you  are  not  plain, — really  !  "  insisted 
Sprague,  earnestly.  "You, — you  are  really  the 
prettiest  girl  at  the  Prom. !  " 


1 10  Yale  Yarns. 

"  I  believe  you  !  "  she  laughed,  convulsed. 

"  And  are  you  really — Tad's  sister  or  his 
cousin  ?  " 

"  His  sister — Yes."  She  gazed  at  him  with 
truthful  gray  eyes. 

"  And  you  never  saved  the  little  kid  through 
the  ice  ?  " 

"  No  ;  that  's  a  myth." 

"  A  horse  ?     One  of  Tad's  stories  ?  " 

"  Yes."     (Laughter,  and  a  long  pause.) 

"  I — I — think  I  like  you, — er — just  the  same, 
— as  before — just  as  if  you  had  saved  that  little 
chap." 

"Why?" 

"  Because, — er — um — I  never  met  a  girl  be 
fore, — er — who  broke  the  ice  so — so  easily  for 
a  fellow, — it  's  really  no  work  to  talk  to  you, 
really  !  " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Sprague  !  You  are  such  a  flat 
terer  !  It  was  you  who  broke  the  ice  !  " 

"  Oh,  but  I  mean  it.  Before  most  girls  I, — I 
— am  dumb." 

"  But  you  are  wofully  inconstant.  You  'd 
got  your  mind  made  up  evidently  to  a  dumpy 
little  plain  girl, — and — and — look  up  at  me  !  " 

"  By  Jove  ! — you  would  n't  have  me  constant 


The  "Dwarf's  "  Prom.  1 1 1 

to  a  fake  girl,  would  you  ?  There  is  no  nice 
little  plain  sister, — ergo, — you  will  have  to 
do!" 

"  And  be  number  two  ?  " 

"  No,  number  one." 

"  But,  I  'm  sure  I  cannot  hope  to  fill  that 
nice,  dumpy  little  creature's  place.  Describe 
her,  Mr.  Sprague  ?  Did  she  waddle  as  she 
walked, — a  sort  of  a  duck  of  a  girl  ?  Tell  me — 
the  girl  you  were  ever  thinking — thinking — 
thinking  of !  "  Then  she  burst  out  again  into 
almost  a  shriek  of  laughter. 

He  gave  her  his  arm,  and  they  strolled  across 
the  floor,  in  animated  half-confidential  conversa 
tion  now.  Boots  Paige  and  Aldrich  looked  at 
him  in  perfect  amazement.  He  'd  never  been 
known  to  say  three  words  to  a  girl  before  in  his 
life.  Kate  pulled  him  through  a  lancers,  and 
then  danced  a  waltz  with  Paige. 

"  Oh,  he  's  one  of  the  dearest, — most  unsel 
fish  fellows  in  the  world,"  said  Paige  in  her  ear 
as  they  whirled  to  the  Strauss  waltz  ;  "  and 
were  it  only  not  for  the  fact ' 

"  What,  Mr.  Paige  ?  " 

"  I  really  hate  to  say — captain  of  the  crew 
too •" 


1 1 2  Yale  Yarns 

"  Is  it  anything  dreadful,  Mr.  Paige  ?" 
(Solemnly.)     "  Well,  he  has— a  wooden  leg." 
"  Poor  man  ;  that  's  why  he  fell  with  me  !  " 
"  He  lost  it  honorably, — for  him." 
"  How  ?     Do  tell  me,  Mr.  Paige  !  " 
Lander's  band  in  the  gallery  came  out  with 
a  blare  of  trumpets — the  music  was  fine  ! — he 
shouted  : 

"  In  a  saw-mill " 

"  Oh,  how  shocking  !  " 

"  He  fell  asleep  on  a  log, — he  has  a  way  of 
sleeping  just  like  a  log, — and  the  polite  pro 
prietor  of  the  saw-mill  did  not  like  to  disturb 
him  ; — and  when  he  saw  he  'd  cut  off  one  leg, 
— he  said  :  '  there  's  no  use  taking  two  bites  of 
this  cherry, — why  not  cut  off  both  at  once  ? '  ' 

Kate  pretended  to  look  horrified,  but  as  she 
was  waltzing,  no  one  thought  otherwise  than 
that  Paige  might  have  trod,  by  accident,  on 
her  slipper. 

"  But  the  funny  thing  of  it  was,  he  's  some 
thing  of  an  oarsman  and  Harvard  protested  the 
wooden  leg  as  extra  machinery  and  he  had  to 
tow  it  behind  the  whole  four  miles." 
"  Mr.  Paige  !  " 
"Yes." 


The  '  'Dwarfs  "  Prom.  1 1 3 

"  Do  you  think  I  believe  all  that  ?  Do  you 
wish  to  make  me  like  Mr.  Sprague?  Let  me 
tell  you  there  is  nothing  so  fascinating  to  me  as 
his  sincerity." 

They  stopped  dancing  and  she  pointed  to  two 
harp-like  set  ''pieces"  at  the  end  of  the  gal 
lery  : 

"Are  those  emblems  of  the  Junior  Class?" 
she  asked  demurely. 

"They  look  like  harps,"  said  Paige.  "  They 
seem  rather  faded " 

"  They  look  to  me  like " 

"Say  it — oh,  say  it.  I  suppose  you  mean 
*  blasted  lyres !  '  " 

Paige  turned  Miss  Kate  over  to  Aldrich  for 
a  two-step,  without  another  word. 

"  Don't  you  think  Mr.  Sprague  jolly?  "  Aid- 
rich  asked  as  they  danced,  still  working  the 
joke  which  had  been  passed  along. 

"  Well,  I  would  hardly  say  jolly.  Earnest  is 
better.  And  I  like  him — he  's  sincere." 

"  Such  a  pity  he  inherits  his  father's  fatal 
disease." 

"  Oh,  does  he  ?     He  looks  so  strong " 

"  They  say  he  '11  die  of  it." 

"  Indeed  !  " 


ii4  Yale  Yarns. 

"  His  father  was  the  first  gentleman  to  be 
hanged  in  Montana  ;  quite  an  honor,  was  n't 
it?" 

"  I  should  say." 

"  He  '11  be  hanged  as  his  father  was — really 
now — on  the  level — — 

"  And  be  skied,  afterwards,  because  he  seems 
really  good  !  " 

"That  's  right!  He  is  good.  Ah  there, 
Barrington  ?  You  want  the  *  last  half.'  You 
can't  have  it  Barry,  can  he,  Miss  Nelson  ?  " 

"  N — yes,  if  he  wants  it.  I  want  to  hear  a 
new  little  fiction  about  the  only  honest  and 
truthful  man  in  your  class." 

They  had  stopped  dancing. 

"Am  I  so  untruthful?  "  asked  Paige,  looking 
admiration  in  his  eyes. 

"You  are  Ananias's  third  cousin,  at  least" 
she  laughed. 

Barrington,  with  a  heavy  basso  prof  undo 
voice,  asked  Miss  Kate,  as  they  commenced  to 
dance  : 

"  You  are  a  Vassar  Grad.  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Why,  then,  where  did  you  learn  wrestling  ?  " 
He  looked  surprised. 


The  "Dwarf's"  Prom.  115 

"  Majmma —  "  she  hesitated.  She  enjoyed 
the  fun. 

"  Saw  you  take  a  very  pretty  fall — er — out  of 
the  strongest  man  we  have  here,"  said  Barry, 
seriously. 

"  Mr.  Sprague  ?  " 

"  Yes,  saw  you  drop  him  very  neatly." 

"  I  'd  like  the  credit  of  it,  of  course,  for  I  be 
lieve  in  athletics,  but  the  fact  was — 

"  I  know — er — he  *d  been  drinking,  I  suppose, 
quite  jagged  !  Ah,  I  know  it.  Poor  Sprague  ! 
I  suppose  the  excitement  of  the  Prom.,  and  all. 
Odd  that  a  man  of  his  magnificent  strength 
shows  such  a  miserable  weakness." 

"  That  might  account  for  him — a  little — 

"  How  so?" 

"  In  vino  reritas.  He  was  very  truthful,  Mr. 
Barrington,  and  I  like  truthful  people." 

"  Yes,  he  was  not  himself !  " 

"  He  did  not  try  to  deceive  me." 

"  No.     You  are  too  old  a  hand " 

"  Mr.  Barrington  !  !  " 

They  almost  stopped  dancing.  But  they  re 
sumed  as  he  said  : 

"  I  mean  you  recognized — from  long  and 
ardent  mission  work  among  the  slums — you 


1 1 6  Yale  Yarns. 

knew — er — a  harmless  inebriate  when  you  saw 
him." 

"  Mr.  Sprague  is  in  training — he  can't,  he 
must  n't  drink " 

"  Save  on  the  sly." 

"  How  unkind  you  are  to  him  !  " 

"  When  sober,  he  's  the  dearest  fellow  in  the 
world.  Ah  me,  it  's  a  pity  he  will  imbibe  the 
'  rosy  ' !  " 

"  You  positively  slander  him  !  "  She  drew 
herself  up,  indignantly. 

"  Oh,  ask  him,  that  's  all— we  '11  ask  him  to 
drink  a  glass  of  champagne.  Here  he  is  !  " 

"  They  stopped  dancing.  The  Dwarf  was 
hovering  near  at  hand,  watching  them. 

"  Mr.  Sprague,  will  you  come  with  us?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Where  ?  "  he  replied,  vaguely. 

"  And  have  some  wine,  old  man  ?  "  said  Bar- 
rington. 

Sprague  gave  him  a  look  of  indignant  scorn. 

"  Oh,  you  can  have  gin,  of  course,"  laughed 
Barrington  ;  "  some  people  prefer  it — but " 

"  I  'm  so  thirsty,"  exclaimed  Kate.  "  Come, 
Mr.  Sprague." 

They  went   into    the    brilliant    supper-room, 


The  "Dwarfs  "  Prom.  1 1  7 

which  happened  to  be  near  at  hand,  and  sat 
down  in  an  obscure  corner  at  a  little  table. 
The  Juniors  were  doing  the  affair  in  the  hand 
somest  possible  manner,  and  the  spread  was 
sent  up  from  New  York  by  a  fashionable 
caterer.  Harrington  ordered  a  bottle  of  fizz, 
and  the  apoplectic  French  waiter  disappeared 
and  shortly  appeared  again  with  a  bottle 
wrapped  in  a  napkin. 

"  Three  glasses,  waiter,"  said  Barrington. 

"  Not  for  me,  of  course,"  said  the  Dwarf. 

The  waiter  poured  out  the  wine  in  three 
glasses. 

Kate  Nelson  looking  perfectly  stunning,  and 
a  very  laughing  devil  in  her  eye,  held  up  her 
glass,  sparkling  with  the  champagne. 

"  You  won't  refuse  to  drink  with  me,  Mr. 
Sprague  ?" 

"  Really — you  see  I  've  begun  training,"  he 
said,  excusing  himself. 

"  But  the  race  is  six  months  away, — if  you 
won't  drink,  I  shall  be  mortally  offended." 

"  Mortally  offended  ?  "  he  repeated  vaguely. 

Poor  Sprague  !  He  looked  at  the  girl,  then 
looked  at  Barrington,  who  enjoyed  his  dilemma; 
then  he  looked  at  the  girl  again. 


1 1 8  Yale  Yarns. 

"  I  'm  captain  this  year,  Miss  Kate, — and — 
and — the  example, — really,  you  know — 

"  Then  if  no  one  sees  you, — and  it  's  on  the 
sly?" 

"  No,  by  Jove !  (half  laughing).  Of  course 
F  11  not  do  on  the  sly  what  I  won't  do  openly." 
Then  he  rose,  flushed,  and  getting  provoked. 

"  Gad  !  "  said  Barrington,  recounting  the  inci 
dent  afterward ;  "  he  looked  deuced  hand 
some  too. 

"  *  Drink, — please — just  one  little  swallow  !  ' 
Her  eyes  pleaded.  She  acted  as  though  she 
really  was  bound,  womanlike,  to  make  him 
yield,  if  she  could.  *  One  swallow/  she  laughed 
and  teased  him,  '  does  not  make  a  summer  !  ' 

"  She  stood  up  too,"  said  Barrington,  "  and 
if  any  girl  looked  volumes  at  a  fellow,  I  swear 
she  did  at  Dwarf  Sprague.  Her  dark  eyes 
seemed  to  be  full  of  chain  lightning.  You  know 
what  a  beauty  she  is  ! 

" '  Will  you  not  ? '  they  seemed  to  say. 
'  Then  choose  between  Yale  and  me  ! ' 

"  '  No  !  I  will  not !  '  his  eyes  answered,  de 
fiantly. 

"  Oh,  the  Capt.  has  got  quite  a  grit  in  his 
way  !  "  added  Barrington. 


The  "Dwarf's  "  Prom.  1 1 9 

".'  You  care  more  for  Yale  than  anything  in 
this  world,'  she  said.  '  And — I  quite  think 
you  're  right.' 

"  Then  I  was  surprised  to  see  Miss  Kitty 
Nelson  laugh  and  toss  her  upraised  glass  of 
very  good  Pommery  on  the  floor,  and  take  the 
Dwarf's  arm  and  walk  off  with  him,  at  the  same 
time  giving  me  the  haughtiest,  most  supercilious 
and  disdainful  glance  I  ever  got  from  a  woman 
or  man,  over  her  shoulder  as  she  went  away. 
She  made  me  feel  like  a  villain  ! 

"  Well, — I  was  left  alone  to  finish  the  fizz, 
and  pay  for  broken  glass, — and — and  that  pos 
sibly  accounts  for  my  losing  my  dance-card, 
and  not  seeing  Miss  Kate  again  during  the  en 
tire  evening!  " 

"  I  noticed  that  you  had  quite  a  *  still '  on 
afterwards  that  evening,"  said  Aldrich,  laugh 
ing,  "  and  yet  you  looked  quite  glum  too." 

"  I  think  if  the  Dwarf  had  not  got  the  start 
of  me — I ' 

"  Oho — I  see  !  "  said  Aldrich,  compassion 
ately.  Then  Aldrich  began  to  whistle  absent 
mindedly  : 

"  Oh,  my  love  is  a  Bowery  girl." 


I2O  Yale  Yarns. 

Boots  Paige,  Barrington,  Aldrich,  and  others 
congratulated  Tad  Nelson  when  they  met  a  few 
days  later.  "  The  Dwarf's  governor  is  ten 
times  a  millionaire  out  in  Ohio,"  they  said  ; 
"  and,  well, — he  's  admittedly  one  of  the  few 
honest  men  in  the  class  ! " 

"  Oh,— it  could  n't  suit  me  better,"  said  Tad, 
who  now  complacently  played  the  heavy  indul 
gent  father  to  his  sister  and  her  fiancj ' ;  "  I 
planned  it  all  out  from  the  start.  I  persuaded 
him  to  go,  you  know  ;  and  I  got  him  interested. 
They  are  just  suited.  Just  suited." 

"  Let  's  go  over  and  shake  the  honest  old 
Dwarf's  hand  off !  "  said  Aldrich. 

And  they  tried  to,— but  could  n't ! 


THE    LAST  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  NANCY 
BRIG." 

"I  'm  a  bose'n  tight,  and  a  midshipmite, 
And  the  crew  of  the  Nancy  Brig" 

IT  was  a  mild,  sunny  April  day,  one  of  those 
mild  warm  days  of  early  spring,  which,  such  is 
our  eventful  climate,  give  the  weatherwise 
cause  to  expect  "  storms  with  varying  winds — 
and  rain/'  but  which  only  bring  to  the  student- 
mind  visions  of  June,  and  recollections  of  the 
last  summer,  and  make  them,  to  a  man,  fool 
ishly  leave  off  winter  underclothing. 

The  Campus,  this  mild  April  morning,  was 
making  an  effort  in  spots  to  put  forth  a  blade 
of  green  grass.  Not  a  green  thing  visible  but 
Freshmen — was  no  longer  to  be  the  order  of 
things  that  year.  The  crew  of  the  Nancy  de 
cided  that  it  was  just  the  day  to  go  "  down  the 
harbor." 

The  Nancy  Brig,  as  the  six  owners  rechrist- 
121 


i  2  2  Yale  Yarns. 

ened  her  from  the  Swallow,  was  a  cat-boat  some 
twenty-eight  feet  long  and  proportionately  wide 
and  shallow,  with  a  centre-board  that  went  down 
into  the  depths  of  the  sea  and  dragged  up  inno 
cent  young  oysters  from  their  beds ;  a  mast 
which  towered  into  the  clouds,  and  had  the 
class  numerals,  "  Umpty-three,"  on  a  white  pen 
nant  floating  at  its  head  ;  a  well  setting  sail,  a 
rakish  overhang.  The  Nancy  had  been  known  to 
give  one  or  two  fast  sharpies  a  hard  tussel  out 
of  New  Haven  harbor.  She  had  been  tied  up 
until  within  a  few  days,  when  "  Tad  "  Nelson, 
and  Paige  and  Barrington,  spent  an  entire  Satur 
day  afternoon  and,  I  grieve  to  say,  part  of  Sun 
day  putting  her  into  commission  for  the  season. 

They  gave  her  hull  a  new  coat  of  white  paint, 
and  daubed  her  inside  dark  blue,  out  of  patri 
otic  feeling.  Then  they  sailed  her  around  to 
the  flats,  just  off  the  N.  H.  Yacht  Club  house, 
dropped  anchor  in  the  mud,  and  she  was  ready 
and  fit  for  anything,  they  said. 

They  had  bought  her,  new,  in  Freshman  year, 
and  she  had  gone  through  with  them  to  their 
last  year  in  college,  requiring  but  one  renewal 
of  sail  and  mast.  They  had  had  many  a  moon 
light  sail  in  her ;  they  had  flirted  and  made  love 


The  Last  Crtiise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig."   123 

in  her ;  they  had  fished  in  her ;  shot  in  her ; 
crammed  for  annuals  in  her, — lived  in  her  a 
large  part  of  the  summer  term. 

"Sleuth  "  Davidson  was  an  original  owner,  but 
they  had  led  him  astray  into  base-ball,  and  he 
now  covered  first  base.  "  Dwarf "  Sprague  had 
been  an  original  owner,  but  he  had  wandered 
off  into  the  University  crew.  There  were  many 
other  and  finer  yachts  and  cat-boats  belonging 
to  students,  but  there  was  none  that  had  so 
many  stories  connected  with  her  as  the  Nancy. 
She  had  had  her  turns  at  bad  luck,  too,  but  she 
had  never  drowned  any  one  ;  among  other  ad 
ventures  being  herself  run  down  by  the  night 
boat  for  New  York,  one  night  when  Barrington 
fell  asleep  at  the  rudder.  Cruising  for  duck  the 
previous  fall  among  the  Thimbles,  she  nearly 
got  her  back  broken  on  a  sunken  rock,  but  the 
tide  lifted  her,  and  she  sailed  home  half  full  of 
sea  water,  safe  and  sound. 

Well,  that  warm  April  day  happened  to  be  a 
Wednesday,  and  Tad  Nelson,  Paige,  Phil 
Gardiner,  "  Great  "  Barrington,  "  Jack  "  Homer, 
and  Keith  hurried  down  to  the  boat  after  noon 
recitation,  carrying  with  them  a  basket  of 
lunch,  and  getting  some  bottles  of  beer  at  Gus 


124  Yale  Yarns. 

Traeger's  on  their  way.  The  owners  would 
take  the  first  sail  of  the  season,  and  it  really 
seemed  as  if  summer  had  come  again. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  night  when  Sam 
Flemming  put  in  his  great  saving  act  off  the 
Nancy  ?  said  "  Little  Jack,"  as  they  jolted  along 
down  in  the  horse-car. 

Paige  remembered  it  with  a  laugh.  The 
others  had  a  dim  recollection  of  hearing  the 
story.  They  had  not  been  present. 

"  We  had  taken  out  a  party  of  girls  that 
night,"  said  Little  Jack,  "  and  we  got  in  rather 
late,  owing  to  a  calm.  The  chaperon  was 
anxious  to  get  the  girls  home,  and  we  hurried 
things  along  as  best  we  could." 

"  I  know  the  way  you  generally  hurry  things 
along  on  such  occasions !  "  laughed  Paige. 

"  There  was  a  Miss  Friese  there  from  Boston. 
She  was  nice  easy  people.  I  think  you  'd  call 
her  a  regular  queen.  She  was  too  airy  fairy  for 
me  though.  She  could  hardly  open  her  mouth 
without  spouting  poetry.  Sam  Flemming  was 
very  much  gone  on  a  Miss  Carrie  Hathaway, 
and  she  was  engaged,  at  the  time,  in  putting 
up  a  sort  of  bluff  act  on  him — he  trying  to 
show  her  he  did  n't  give  a  cent  for  any  one  else, 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  l  'Nancy  Brig. "   125 

and  trying  to  be  devoted,  and  she  accusing  him, 
—pretending  to, — as  girls  have  a  little  way  of 
doing,  confound  'em ! — of  only  trying  to  give 
her  the  grand  laugh.  Carrie  was  a  regular 
dazzler  then,  and  she  is  now,  only  she  's  so 
bered  down,  and  takes  serious  views  of  life,  I 
believe,  since  she  and  Flem.  have  made  it  up." 

"  Well,  the  Nancy  got  in  at  last  on  the  flats, 
and  we  dropped  our  anchor,  and  as  she  was  get 
ting  into  the  rowboat  Miss  Friese  fell  overboard. 
It  was  Sam  Flemming's  fault  somehow,  and, 
without  a  thought,  he  threw  off  his  hat  and 
dove  overboard  after  her." 

'  It  was  bright  moonlight  and  clear  as  day. 
Flem.  dove,  and  he  must  have  dived  hard  ! — it 
was  n't  more  than  two  feet  deep,  and  Flem.  did 
most  of  his  diving  into  thick,  oozy  mud.  His 
legs  stuck  up  in  the  air  out  of  the  water  at  first, 
and  then  they  slowly  fell  over  on  one  side,  and 
Flem.  rose  up  out  of  the  mire  a  sight  to  be 
hold.  He  looked  like  the  old  man  of  the  sea, 
with  gory,  slimy  locks  hanging  down  his  back 
and  sides.  What  a  sight  he  was  !  He  came 
up  gasping,  and  Miss  Friese,  who  got  herself 
right  side  up  with  care  without  much  effort,  in 
her  fright,  gave  a  great  scream,  and  threw  her 


126  Yale  Yarns. 

arms  around  Flem.'s  neck  and  clung  to  him  and 
kissed  him,— called  him  her  Hero— her  Brave 
Darling, — ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  etc.  Well, — you  had 
better  believe  that  Miss  Carrie  liked  that,  and  it 
was  a  long  time  afterward  before  Flem.  could 
bring  her  round.  But  I  shall  never,  as  long  as 
I  live,  forget  Sam  Flemming's  famous  dive  !  " 

"  His  legs  stuck  out  of  the  water  half  a 
minute  !  "  laughed  Paige,  "  and  when  he  had 
floundered  up, — it  sounded  so  silly  in  Miss 
Friese  to  go  on  in  such  tremendous  heroics, 
and  clasp  him  to  her  as  they  stood  there  knee- 
deep  in  mud,  as  Pauline  clasps  Claude  Melnotte 
in  The  Lady  of  Lyons.  Oh,  it  was  great  !  And 
the  funny  part  of  it  was  that  Miss  Friese  took 
it  all  in  perfect  seriousness,  and  half  the  girls 
on  the  boat  did  too,  and  they  thought  Sam  a 
hero !  " 

"  The  tides  are  desavin'/'  laughed  Barring- 
ton.  "  I  remember  getting  a  load  of  people 
aboard  the  Nancy,  hoisting  sail,  and  then  find 
ing  the  centreboard  buried  in  three  feet  of 
mud  !  " 

"  What  did  you  do  then,  Great  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  pretended  the  wind  was  n't  right, 
and  that  I  had  to  wait  for  a  man  from  shore. 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig"   127 

The  tide  rose  after  a  little  while,  and  I  got  her  * 
off." 

They  reached  the  N.  H.  Yacht  Club  house 
by  this  time,  and  without  delay  got  aboard  the 
Nancy  Brig. 

"  She  never  looked  better  in  her  life !  "  said 
Boots  Paige. 

"  She  's  a  hummer, — an  angel, — a  darling, 
— dear  old  Nancy  B.  !  "  cried  Little  Jack,  de 
lighted  to  have  it  warm  and  pleasant  again  for 
sailing. 

"  Haul  away  your  throat  halyards  ! — Now  the 
peak. — Slack  off  your  sheet  there,  Boots  ! — Lay 
her  head  a  little  more  to  starboard  ! — Now  you 
have  her  !  "  So  sang  Great  Barrington,  skip 
per. 

The  wind  was  rather  light,  but  the  tide  was 
going  out,  and  they  hoisted  sail  and  swung 
down  past  an  anchored  fishing  schooner  with 
some  of  the  Nancy  s  old-time  speed.  They 
passed  Indian  Hill,  now  crowned  with  a  fort, 
and  across  the  stern  the  ruins  of  old  Fort  Hale, 
of  '73.  Now  they  steer  across  to  the  white, 
unused  old  lighthouse,  and  tack  briskly  out 
into  the  Sound. 

"  Say,  boys, — ye  must  expect  a  nor'-wester 


128  Yale  Yarns. 

to-night,"  sang  out  an  old  salt  from  a  puffing 
tug. 

"  Right,  Cap !  "  sung  out  Boots  in  answer. 
He  was  steering  the  boat.  What  did  the  brave 
Nancy  care  for  nor'-westers  ? 

It  was  so  warm  and  sunny, — what  wind  there 
was  being  directly  with  them,  that  they  let  out 
the  sail,  threw  off  their  coats,  "  hit  "  their  pipes, 
and  prepared  to  enjoy  life  with  an  equal  mind. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  story  of  Adams," 
said  Phil,  "  and  Thomas  and  a  lot  of  those 
fellows  in '  umpty-four, — in  their  Freshman 
year,  who  were  out  in  the  Sound  in  a  cat,  and 
were  run  down  by  a  Fall  River  boat,  and  were 
picked  up  and  carried  to  Newport,  and  for  a  joke 
hid  away  three  days  and  never  let  any  one  know, 
and  it  got  into  all  the  papers, — and  the  Faculty 
offered  $25  reward  for  their  bodies  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  all  they  were  worth  too  ! — they 
were  a  fresh  set  of  chumps  to  do  such  a  thing." 

"  Yes, — a  regular  Freshman  horse  !  " 

"  There  's  an  old  story  of  a  Yale  student  in 
1 86 1,  who  sailed  over  to  Long  Island  and  who 
left  his  boat  keel  up  on  the  sand  and  his  hat 
floating  on  the  water  and  went  abroad,  and  they 
never  knew  where  he  was " 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig."   129 

"  Till  the  war  was  over!"  suggested  Tad 
Nelson. 

"  No  Yale  man  ever  avoided  the  draft, — no, — 
he  owed  a  lot  of  money " 

"  So — do — I,"  came  in  chorus. 

"  And  he  went  over  as  purser  on  a  steamer 
and  then — got  in  with  Maximillian, — went  to 
Mexico  with  him, — and  was  shot  there.  He 
was  in  '66." 

"Quite  a  romance,"  said  Little  Jack,  mus 
ing  over  his  pipe.  "Wonder  if  it's  true?  he 
sang: 

"Does  it  seem  so  to  you  ? 

Seems  to  me  he 's  lyin  ' 

Oh,  I  wonder  if  it 's  true?" 

They  had  got  well  down  the  harbor  by  this 
time,  and  it  was  voted  to  run  out  the  east  chan 
nel  and  so  on  toward  Brandford  Point  and  the 
ever  beautiful  Thimble  Islands,  which  they 
presently  saw  twinkling  and  gleaming  in  the 
sun  to  the  eastward. 

"  The  wind  freshened  a  little  and  the  Nancy 
made  good  time.  Several  of  the  fellows  put 
on  their  coats. 

"  They  say  there  are  three  hundred  and  sixty- 

9 


130  Yale  Yarns. 

five  Thimbles, — one  for  every  day  in  the  year/* 
said  Phil  Gardiner,  standing  up  and  using  a 
marine  glass.  "  But  I  can  only  see  three  from 
here." 

"  Give  me  the  glass,  old  four  eyes  !  " 

A  pleasant  allusion  to  Phil 's  eye-glasses,  by 
Barrington. 

"  I  say,  fellows, — perhaps  we  'd  better  not  try 
the  Thimbles,"  said  Little  Jack  dubiously. 

"What — with  this  wind?"  and  he  was 
instantly  cried  down. 

So  they  sailed,  borne  on  the  western  breeze, 
which  grew  fresher  as  they  got  away  from  shore, 
and  they  ate  lunch  and  drank  their  bottled  beer 
with  the  eager  joy  of  sailors  no  longer  to  be 
housed  ashore. 

The  glistening  Thimbles  grew  to  be  bits  of 
green,  then  bits  of  brown  and  green,  then  took 
on  definite  shape.  They  lay  like  pretty  floating 
gardens  on  the  blue  water.  Paige  pointed  the 
boat  well  down  toward  Pot  Rock  and  the  cove. 
Here,  a  hundred  years  ago,  the  famous  Captain 
Kidd,  pirate  and  buccaneer,  hid  his  vessel  behind 
the  rocky  islands,  and  buried  his  treasure  where 
he  and  no  one  else  has  since  been  able  to  find  it. 
Only  his  celebrated  punch-bowl,  and  initials  re- 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig"   131 

main  to  recall  his  sojourn  in  these  charming 
waters. 

"  Hard  up  your  helm  there !  Let  go  the 
sheet ! "  and  so  they  came  round  to  the  little 
steam-boat  dock. 

They  had  run  in  near  Kidd's  punch-bowl 
island.  As  it  was  then  three  o'clock,  and  the 
wind  was  rising,  they  thought  best  to  merely 
load  in  (unromantically)  a  few  bottles  of  beer, 
and  a  pound  or  so  of  crackers,  and  set  out  for 
home,  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  Jupiter  !  -how  black  those  clouds  are  on  the 
western  horizon  ! "  said  Barrington,  as  they 
cleared  the  island,  and  made  for  open  sea. 

"  Yes, — they  are,"  chorus. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  skipper's  telling  us 
to  look  out  for  a  nor'wester?  " 

"  Yes, — we  do,"  chorus. 

"  And  the  wind  dead  ahead   too  !  " 

The  first  tack  was  out  to  sea,  and  the  waves 
had  risen  with  the  wind,  and  the  great  rollers, 
which  had  started  somewhere  down  near  New 
York,  came  heaving  up  from  the  westward,  and 
suggested,  with  the  spray  that  began  to  fly,  that 
it  would  be  a  most  excellent  thing  to  reef. 

The  sail  was  lowered,  and  all  hands  fell  to 


132  Yale  Yarns. 

work.  She  was  reefed  in  a  jiffy,  but  a  wave 
pounded  over  her  stern,  and  made  things  nasty. 
Little  Jack  fell  to  work  bailing  with  a  sponge 
and  dipper.  Then  they  hoisted  the  sail  again 
and  were  off  like  a  throughbred. 

The  wind  freshened,  and  whatever  the  Nancy 
was,  she  was  not  a  wind-jammer.  She  fell  off 
a  good  deal,  and  they  soon  got  pretty  well 
away  from  land.  It  got  to  be  five  o'clock,  and 
the  heavy  clouds  from  the  west  made  it  seem 
much  later.  The  wind  blew  cold,  and  they  shiv 
ered,  and  joked,  and  chattered,  and  inwardly 
wished  they  were  well  ashore, — inwardly,  not 
outwardly.  Barrington  held  the  tiller  with  a 
stern,  set  face, — perhaps  he  knew  the  dangers 
of  a  fluffy  nor'wester  better  than  the  rest,  for 
in  summer  he  sailed  nearly  every  day  of  his 
life.  Every  now  and  then  he  cried  :  "  Ease  her 
off  !  "  as  the  wind  blew  a  cat's-paw.  They 
tacked  and  stood  in-shore.  Every  one  was 
silent  now,  and  anxious  too,  for  the  wind  blew 
so  fresh  that  they  began  to  worry  about  the 
sheet,  which  had  not  been  renewed  since  the 
previous  summer.  The  halyards,  Paige  thought, 
were  all  right.  He  'd  been  up  the  mast  with 
them  and  they  were  a  good  thing,  he  said. 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig."   133 

The  sail  itself  was  good  for  a  hurricane,  he 
said  ;  then  he  added,  "  D — n  April  sailing,  any 
how  !  " 

"  To-day  was  a  regular  April  fool  day, 
was  n't  it?"  said  Jack  Horner,  cheerfully. 

"  No  day  to  be  out !  "  growled  shivering 
Keith.  "  Too  wet." 

Then  came  the  "  I  told  you  so's,"  as  a  wave 
struck  the  bow,  and  fizz — boom  ! — the  spray 
covered  them  and  drenched  them  to  the  bone  ; 
again  and  again  the  water  flew  over  them  and 
ran  in  rivulets  down  about  the  creaking  centre 
board. 

They  then  took  turns  bailing  until  they  were 
tired  and  back-weary.  Darkness  came  down 
without  the  moon  they  had  counted  on.  A 
huge  mass  of  cloud  swept  ominously  across  the 
face  of  the  sky,  and  Barrington,  who  took  full 
command,  issued  his  orders  as  short,  as  sharp, 
as  fiercely  as  a  captain's  in  an  engagement.  Two 
men  manned  the  sheet  and  left  him  free  to 
steer.  Then,  as  the  boat  lurched  off,  in  the 
heavy  seas,  Great  ordered  another  reef. 

Then  came  a  fine  stinging  sleet  on  the  wind, 
driving  into  their  faces  and  cutting  like  a  knife. 

The  reefing  was  done  laboriously ;  for  their 


134  Yale  Yarns. 

fingers  were  stiff  with  cold  now  ;  fearfully,  for 
the  waves  shook  the  boat  as  the  wind  shakes  an 
aspen  of  a  summer  night. 

When  double-reefed  she  rode  better,  and  if 
the  wind  had  not  freshened,  they  might  have 
weathered  the  gale  ;  but  as  deep  night  came  on, 
they  were  blown  out  farther  and  farther  from 
shore,  and  were,  at  eight  o'clock,  nearly  in  the 
middle  of  the  Sound.  It  was  dark  and  they  had 
no  compass.  Barrington  was  almost  deter 
mined  to  let  her  drive  before  the  wind. 

But  now  a  new  danger  appeared.  After  hav 
ing  been  laid  up  so  long  all  winter,  the  Nancy  was 
"  dry,"  and  began  to  show  it,  in  the  banging  and 
tossing  she  got,  by  leaking  badly.  She  had  iron 
ballast  along  her  keel  and  enough,  they  knew, 
to  send  her  to  the  oysters  in  no  time.  They 
worked  ankle, — then  knee-deep  in  the  icy  April 
water,  and  Barrington,  with  his  set  white  face, 
was  driving  her  before  the  wind  to  the  Long 
Island  shore ;  not  a  word  of  discouragement, 
or  doubt,  or  misgiving  had  been  spoken.  As 
far  as  anything  was  said,  they  were  out  on  a 
summer  night's  sail  !  The  water  kept  gaining, 
and  she  rolled  heavily  and  like  a  bilged  log. 
Every  one  baled  with  their  hats  now,  but  it  did 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig"   135 

little  good.  Far  away  in  the  eastward  rose  up 
two  lights  out  of  the  sea.  A  new,  sudden  ter 
ror  of  being  run  down  came  over  them. 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  Paige  spoke  up.  He 
was  holding  the  sheet : 

"  What  in  h — 1  are  you  doing,  Great  ?  " 

"  Let  me  alone,  damn  you  !  I  know  what 
I  'm  about !  " 

"  She  '11  run  you  down  !  " 

"  Let  me  alone  !  " 

"  She 's  a  tow  barge — I  see  red  and  green 
lights — why,  even  she  's  unable  to  manage 
herself  in  this  wind." 

"  Hell !  I  don't  care  ;  don't  you  see  we  '11 
all  be  in  the  water  in  five  minutes  ?  The  tow 
is  our  only  chance  !  "  he  said  hoarsely.  "  We 
may  reach  it.  Let  her  drive  !  " 

Then  there  was  a  deep  silence,  and  to  nearly 
all  there,  the  bright  red  and  green  lights  of  the 
tow  steamer  meant  hope,  for  they  were  young 
and  could  not  look  death  in  the  face  ;  and  it 
was  plain  they  could  not  keep  afloat  many 
minutes  longer.  The  waves  dashed  over  the 
boat  at  will, — how  madly,  wildly,  they  fought 
to  drown  the  lads !  Piling  one  over  the  other 
like  yelling  wolves,  snarling,  roaring,  hissing, 


136  Yale  Yarns. 

drowning  the  sodden  boat.  Yet  the  lights, 
green  and  red  and  white,  drew  near,  nearer, — 
then  .  .  .  ! 

The  Nancy  swung  down  the  wind,  and  then, 
as  a  water-logged  boat  will  do  in  a  heavy  sea, 
sidled  against  the  long  tow  hawser  and  her 
mast  slipped  along  with  a  rushing  swist  and 
a  bing,  until  she  smashed  against  the  bow  of 
the  tow,  and  for  a  brief  minute  hung  there, 
held  by  the  suction  of  the  sea  and  the  leaping 
waves.  The  great  sail  caught  for  a  moment, 
then  burst  into  a  hundred  flapping  streamers. 

Just  for  a  minute !  She  hung  pinned  by  the 
wind  and  the  sea  against  the  flat  wide  bow  of 
the  scow ! 

All  scrambled  up  the  side,  helping  each 
other  on  the  tow  in  mad  haste, — all  but  one. 
Great  Barrington  had  either  been  hit  or 
stunned  or  had  fainted  when  she  struck,  and 
lay  across  the  tiller  as  if  dead. 

"  Great  is  killed  !  "  cried  Little  Jack  about 
to  go  down  again.  They  seized  him  and  held 
him  back. 

"Oh,  I'll  fetch  him,— it's  a  faint!"  said 
Boots  Paige  ;  and  then,  as  if  it  were  noth 
ing,  he  went  down  again  on  the  sinking  Nancy, 


The  Last  Cruise  of  the  "Nancy  Brig."   137 

and,  groping  his  way,  bore  his  friend  up  in  his 
arms.  It  was  a  dreadful  moment  ! 

"  Just  in  time,  old  man  !  "  they  said  to  him, 
as  they  swiftly  pulled  Great  up,  and  gave  a 
hand  to  Paige.  As  he  stepped  on  the  deck  of 
the  scow,  the  Nancy  Brig,  giving  a  sort  of 
mournful  sob  of  despair,  as  if  alive,  sank  out 
of  sight, — foundered  in  mid-Sound,  and  the 
scow  went  over  her. 

The  scow,  Ice  King,  forbidding  in  name  only, 
had  a  warm  cabin,  and  a  bottle  of  wrhiskey,  and 
a  kind-hearted  skipper,  and  an  astonished  skip 
per's  wife,  and  was  bound  for  New  London. 
Barrington,  seated  higher  than  the  rest  at  the 
boat's  tiller,  had  been  struck  by  the  boom  of 
the  Nancy,  and  knocked  senseless.  He  re 
vived  shortly,  and  was  not  seriously  hurt. 
Had  he  not  shown  a  little  sand,  and  steered 
for  the  tow,  where  would  they  all  have  been 
to-day  ? 

"  Why,  in  Davy  Jones's  locker,"  says  Little 
Jack,  with  a  jolly  laugh.  For  a  long  time, 
though,  you  could  n't  get  any  of  the  "  owners  " 
to  speak  of  that  last  cruise  of  the  Nancy  Brig. 
It  was  too  deadly  solemn  a  matter. 


138  Yale  Yarns. 

"  Yes,"  said  Barrington,  over  his  pipe,  '•  it 
was  a  close  call  for  the  '  owners  ' ' 

"But  I  don't  blame  the  dear  old  Nancy! 
She  did  her  best  to  save,  not  drown  us,"  said 
Little  Jack,  and  in  this  opinion  all  concurred. 


OLD   SLEUTH'S    LEVEL  HEAD. 

OLD  Sleuth  Davidson,  the  tall,  good-look 
ing,  well  bronzed  fello\v,  who  played  first  base 
on  the  'Varsity  nine  last  year,  and  never  was 
known  to  lose  his  head  on  any  occasion,  and 
who  always  dressed  (except  when  on  the  field), 
in  the  very  best  style  (he  had  his  clothes  over 
from  a  Bond  Street  London  tailor),  and  who 
used  to  spend  hours  over  his  cravat,  and  debate 
and  argue  for  days  with  his  chum  about  some 
unimportant  matter  of  dress,  and  was  always 
so  silent  and  level-headed  about  everything  else, 
especially  about  matters  concerning  the  fairer 
and  better  sex,  and  who  roomed  in  Welch,  and 
whose  stand  was  well  up  in  the  first  division, — 
Well,  Sleuth  Davidson  went  off  the  hooks,  at 
last,  somewhat  in  this  fashion,  according  to 
Little  Jack  Horner,  who  pumped  the  facts  out 
of  Sleuth's  particular  friend,  Laze  Aldrich. 
Little  Jack  afterwards  went  to  Sleuth's  dinner 
and  got  the  whole  story  from  his  friends,  for 
139 


140  Yale  Yarns. 

Sleuth  never  gave  himself  away  under  any 
consideration,  and  was  confoundedly  mad  that 
it  got  all  over  the  class,  as  it  did  in  a  surprising 
way,  long  before  graduation. 

"You  see,"  said  Little  Jack,  pulling  away 
hard  at  one  of  the  Dwarf's  cutty  pipes,  and 
seated  with  his  feet  on  the  Dwarf's  study  table, 
"  you  're  not  the  only  man  that  has  been 
foolish  enough  to  go  and  get  engaged  before 
he  's  out  of  college.  Sleuth  is  there,  too, — and 
I  '11  tell  you  fellows  how  about  it. 

"  Sleuth  was  going  down  to  New  York, 
Thanksgiving,  and  he  had  invited  his  chum 
Paton,  Aldrich,  and  Barrington  with  him  for 
the  game,  and  over  Thanksgiving  Day,  at  his 
house.  He  had  his  dress-suit  case  and  his  hat- 
box  with  him  in  the  car, — Sleuth  always  travels 
like  some  benighted  Englishman  visiting  this 
country  for  the  first  time, — and  they  settled 
themselves  in  the  smoker  for  the  two  hours' 
run  to  New  York,  feeling,  no  doubt,  very  fit, 
and  were  exceeding  glad  to  get  away  for  the 
fun, — as  we  Elis  all  are,  when  we  have  given 
out,  pretty  generally,  that  the  foot-ball  team  of 
the  year  consists  of  a  dead  man  and  ten 
cripples,  left  over  from  the  Springfield  game. 


Old  SleutJis  Level  Head.  1 4 1 

"  Every  one  of  the  four  fellows  was  trying 
to  look  his  smoothest,  you  know,  with  the 
usual  blue  violets  in  his  button-holes,  and 
new  hats  and  clothes  and  all.  Sleuth  had 
promised  them  a  good  time  in  New  York  and 
some  very  charming  girls  to  meet, — friends  of 
his  sister.  It  seems  she  had  arranged  a*  dinner 
and  theatre  party  that  very  night  for  them,  and 
they  naturally  anticipated  a  very  agreeable  sort 
of  a  time,  all  round. 

"  Well,  the  express  had  run  along  down  near 
to  Fairfield,  when  Great  Barrington  looked  out 
and  said  :  '  Quick,  fellows  ! — a  stunning  girl, — 
on  horseback !  '  And  they  looked  out  and  saw 
a  stylish  queen  on  a  thoroughbred,  on  the 
road  which  crossed  the  track.  Sleuth  stuck 
his  head  out  of  the  window  to  get  a  better 
look,  and  Gee !  his  new  silk  hat  blew  off, — and, 
what  does  he  do,  but  right  then  and  there, 
quick  as  a  flash,  he  throws  out  his  hat-box 
after  the  hat ! 

"The  train  was  going  at  sixty  miles  an  hour, 
and  the  box  must  have  fallen  a  good  distance 
from  the  hat,  of  course. 

"  '  I  suppose  you  were  so  confounded  mad  to 
lose  your  hat,  you  thought  you  might  as  well 


142  Yale  Yarns. 

throw  out  your  hat-box  too,'  laughed  Bar- 
rington. 

" '  I  never  saw  you  lose  your  head  before, 
Sleuth/  said  Paton,  amazed. 

"  '  I  did  n't,— I  only  lost  my  hat,'  said  Sleuth, 
calmly. 

"  '  Well,  the  queen  was  worth  it !  Very  easy 
people  !  '  said  Great. 

"  *  Sleuth, — why  the  devil  did  you  make 
such  an  idiot  of  yourself  ? '  asked  Aldrich, 
laughing. 

"  Old  Sleuth  quietly  fitted  his  smoking-cap 
on  his  head  and  kept  very  still  for  a  few 
moments ;  then  he  said,  in  that  slow,  dry  way 
he  has  :  '  My  hat-box  has  my  address  in  town 
on  it.  Er — you  see  it 's  the  only  way  I  could 
think  of  to  get  my  hat  back  again. — A  new 
hat  and  hat-box  too.' 

"  '  You  '11  never  see  either  hat  or  box  again, 
— you  jack  !  '  laughed  Paton. 

"  '  You  don't  know  your  Connecticut,'  said 
Sleuth.  '  I  '11  bet  I  get  it  back  to-morrow  in 
time  for  the  game.  Some  honest  old  hay 
seed  farmer  '11  pick  it  up  and  express  .it. 
Perhaps  the  fair  rider  herself  will  be  kind 
enough  to  favor —  ' 


Old  Sleuth's  Level  Head.  1 43 

"  '  What  ! — dismount  from  her  horse,  just 
for  a  hat  ?  Oh,  no ;  the  track  walker  will 
wear  it  Sundays,  Sleuth,  and  the  box  will  do 
for  his  tools.' 

"'  Twenty  even  you  don't  see  both  hat  and 
box  again,  Sleuth,'  said  Paton,  thinking  he  had 
a  snap. 

"  *  Oh,  very  good,'  drawled  Sleuth.  '  Make  it 
fifty.'  And  he  took  out  a  wad  of  Harvard 
money  he  had  pinched  at  Springfield. 

"  '  I  '11  make  it  fifty, — you  don't  see  both  hat 
and  box  before  the  game  to-morrow ! '  said 
Paton.  *  Is  it  a  go  ?  ' 

"'  I  don't  mind,'  said  Sleuth. 

"'  I  '11  place  a  modest  ten  on  the  same  terms/ 
said  Aldrich. 

"  '  Count  me  in, — same  as  Laze,'  echoed  Bar- 
rington. 

"  Sleuth  accommodated  them  all,  and  then 
they  lit  cigars  and  went  to  work  and  played 
whist  at  a  dollar  a  corner,  until  they  had  to 
get  out  at  the  Forty-second  Street  Depot,  al 
though  it  was  in  the  midst  of  a  hand. 

"  They  went  to  the  Davidsons'  house  on 
Forty-seventh  Street,  and  Sleuth  borrowed  a 
hat  from  his  younger  brother  Ben,  who  was 


144  Yale  Yarns. 

home  from  Andover  and  who  happened  to 
have  the  big  head  that  year,  from  shutting  out 
Exeter  in  foot-ball.  The  hat  fitted  Sleuth  in 
great  shape. 

"  They  dressed  for  dinner.  Sleuth's  mother 
had  invited  half  a  dozen  swagger  girls,  Alice's 
friends,  to  dinner,  and  they  had  a  good  deal  of 
fun  over  Sleuth's  being  so  fond  of  the  sex  that 
he  'd  risk  his  hat  for  seeing  them.  They  made 
fun  of  his  throwing  out  the  hat-box  too,  and 
all  went  off  to  the  theatre  in  a  jolly  frame  of 
mind.  Old  Sleuth,  as  was  his  habit,  kept  very 
still,  grinned,  and  hardly  said  a  word." 

"  Just  like  him  !  "  laughed  several  listeners, 
and  Little  Jack  continued. 

"  Sleuth's  sister,  Alice, — you  remember  her 
at  the  Prom,  last  year? — a  bright,  spicy,  snappy 
sort  of  girl,  said  it  was  dollars  to  doughnuts — 
or  words  to  that  effect — that  that  girl  on  a 
horse  at  Fairfield  picked  up  the  hat  and  box, 
and  her  brother  would  hear  from  it  again. 
She  and  the  girls  all  took  a  most  romantic 
view  of  the  incident,  and  quite  worked  on 
Sleuth's  feelings,  and  kept  him  on  the  anxious 
seat  with  their  guying. 

"  His  brother  Ben  said  he  had  n't  a   doubt 


Old  SleutKs  Level  Head.  \  4  5 

the  hat  would  come  back,  and  then  he  winked 
the  other  eye  !  He  made  up  a  burlesque  on 
*  The  Cat  Came  Back,'  and  sang  it  all  over  the 
house.  (I  tell  you,  that  brother  Ben  is  going 
to  make  a  great  chap  some  of  these  days, — 
when  he  comes  down  to  Yale.  He  's  a  corker 
for  a  young  kid  !) 

"  Well,  after  the  theatre,  they  started  out 
to  do  the  town.  They  drove  down  to  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  and  met  a  lot  of  the  fel 
lows  and  got  on  a  few  shy  bets  with  some  Prince 
ton  men  who  wanted  odds — three  to  one.  Then 
they  opened  a  bot.,  and  got  one  or  two  other 
Elis  in  with  them  and  started  for  the  Bowery. 
But,  fellows,  the  Bowery  is  n't  much  nowadays, 
— it 's  very  slow  ;  they  took  in  one  or  two  beer 
halls  and  drove  back  to  the  Hoffman  House, 
where  there  was  a  sort  of  mild  riot  going  on, 
and  the  peelers  were  trying  to  haul  a  young 
tough  to  the  station-house,  all  done  up  in 
blue  ribbons  and  shouting  he  \vas  a  '  Yale  Soft 
More'  There  were  more  Yale  students  in 
blue,  \vith  square,  heavy  jaws,  bull-dog  phizes, 
and  Bowery  lingo,  than  any  Yale  monitor 
would  have  owned  up  to !  They  set  on  to 
the  peelers,  and  there  was  a  lively  rough-and- 


146  Yale  Yarns. 

tumble  scrimmage  right  then  and  there,  which 
was  fully  described  next  day  in  the  papers  as 
'  a  grand  student  spree.'  I  don't  believe  there 
was  a  single  Yale  or  Princeton  or  Harvard  man 
in  it — not  one  ! 

"  So  they  had  a  rarebit  and  a  mug  of  ale,  and 
all  went  comfortably  home  to  Sleuth's  house, 
and  he  put  the  two  additional  friends  up  ;  they 
slept  three  in  a  room, — there  never  was  such  a 
hospitable  fellow  as  Sleuth, — and  they  all  slept 
the  sleep  of  the  just  and  dreamed  of  the  game 
and  the  usual  victory. 

"The  next  morning,  when  they  came  down, 
rather  late,  for  breakfast,  there,  in  the  hall  on 
the  hat-stand,  was  Sleuth's  hat-box,  with  an 
American  Express  label  on  it,  and  the  hat  inside, 
as  fresh  and  new  as  the  day  he  bought  it  ! 

" '  The  expressman  just  brought  it  in,  sir,' 
said  the  servant. 

"  Sleuth  calmly  opened  the  box  and  tried  on 
the  hat,  not  at  all  surprised.  '  It 's  been  ironed,' 
he  said.  A  card  dropped  out  as  Sleuth  put  the 
hat  on,  and  Paton  picked  it  up.  It  read  : 

"  Here  's  to  the  man  who  thinks  it  but  his  duty 
To  lose  his  hat  in  looking  at  a  beauty. 
Here  's  to  the  man  who  sees  his  hat  return, 
And  searches  far  '  for  whom  it  may  concern  !  " 


Old  Sleuth's  Level  Head.  147 

"  Sleuth  read  it  over  twice — there  was  no 
other  clue  or  address, — and  drawled  :  '  That 
sounds  like  one  of  those  rank  mottoes  you  find 
in  a  German  favor, — does  n't  it  ?  ' 

"  '  That  girl  is  a  thoroughbred — it 's  an  invita 
tion  ! '  laughed  Great. 

"  '  Odd, — that  a  girl  would  know  enough  to 
have  the  hat  ironed  ! '  said  Sleuth,  musingly, 
taking  his  hat  off  and  looking  it  over. 

"  '  Oh,  you  unsentimental  cad  ! '  said  Paton, 
who,  as  stakeholder,  turned  over  the  money 
they  bet  to  Sleuth.  Of  course,  that  girl  on 
horseback  wrote  it !  and  she  practically  invites 
you  to  a  Fairfield — and  no  favor  !  ' 

"  '  It  's  very  astonishing  !  '    mused  Sleuth. 

"  '  Why,  yes, — that  girl  on  horseback  we 
saw,'  said  Aldrich,  and  he  and  Great  at  once 
'  borrowed  '  back  their  money  bet  and  lost  from 
good-natured  Sleuth,  and  they  went  out  of  the 
house,  and  down  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel 
to  hunt  bets,  profoundly  impressed  with  Old 
Sleuth's  presence  of  mind  and  level  head. 

"  '  Well, — /  never  expected  you  'd  see  that 
hat  or  box  again  ! '  laughed  Paton. 

"  '  Why, — of  course  !  '  drawled  Sleuth,  dis 
dainfully. 


148  Yale  Yarns. 

"  The  hat  —  Dewlap's  eight-dollar  tile — 
just  as  good  as  new,  as  you  shall  hear,  my 
lads !  "  and  Little  Jack  laughed  and  his  merry 
little  eyes  twinkled  in  glee. 

"  Well,  Thanksgiving  day  was  bright  and 
fair ;  New  York  was  all  blue  and  yellow,  from 
the  Battery  to  the  Park.  After  a  jolly  lunch, 
they  went  out  to  the  game  on  a  coach,  and  on 
the  coach  ranged  up  alongside  of  theirs  was  one 
on  which  there  was  a  party  of  yellow  Princeton 
men,  and  there  was  on  it,  too,  one  of  the  girls 
who  had  been  at  Davidson's  dinner  the  night 
before. 

"  On  the  box  seat  of  the  Princeton  coach, 
sat  a  perfect  stunner, — a  stranger, — but  by  all 
odds  the  prettiest  queen  on  the  grounds.  Jove  ! 
but  she  was  a  corking  beauty, — raven  locks  and 
gazelle  eyes,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing !  Men 
turned  around  and  stared  their  eyes  out  at  her. 
It  was  an  awful  pity  that  she  was  done  up  in 
yellow  instead  of  blue, — but  she  was.  And  she 
waved  a  great  big  yellow  silk  flag  too,  with 
a  black  *  P  '  in  the  centre,  and  was  what  the 
poets  call  a  cynosure  of  all  eyes."  Little  Jack 
smacked  his  lips  over  the  word. 

" '  What    do    you    say    to    that    in    yellow, 


Old  Sleuth 's  Level  Head.  149 

Sleuth?'  asked  Barrington,  indicating  the 
queen.  '  Pretty  smooth  people — eh  ?  ' 

"  '  I  Ve  kept  my  eye  on  that  some  time.  Wait 
till  you  see  me  take  her  away  from  the  Nas- 
saus  !  '  drawled  Old  Sleuth.  '  I  'm  going  over 
to  meet  her  in  a  minute.  There  is  Miss  Lin 
coln  (one  of  the  girls  who  dined  with  them 
the  night  before),  and  I  know  two  of  the  Prince 
ton  men — devilish  good  fellows.' 

"  Sleuth  got  down  from  the  coach, — it  was  a 
good  half  hour  before  the  game, — and  the  next 
thing  they  saw,  he  was  talking  and  laughing  to 
that  queen  in  yellow  as  if  he  'd  known  her  all 
his  life ! 

"  Gee !  the  Nassaus  stood  looking  on  as  if 
knocked  silly.  The  girl  seemed  to  take  to 
Sleuth  in  some  extraordinary  way,  from  the 
first.  Love  at  first  sight,  I  guess. 

"  Paton  and  Aldrich,  on  the  Yale  coach, 
shook  their  heads.  *  Old  Sleuth  is  a  winner, 
again,'  they  said,  admiringly.  '  What  a  won 
derful  level  head  he  has  !  ' 

"There  he  was,  sitting  by  her  side  talking 
and  monopolizing  her,  and  the  Nassaus  could  n't 
seem  to  get  near  her.  Oh,  Sleuth  always  did 
love  to  fuss  the  girls.  Miss  Lincoln,  sitting 


150  Yale  Yarns. 

behind  seemed  convulsed,  and  kept  telegraph 
ing  over  to  Alice  Davidson,  and  there  was  some 
joke  going  on  among  the  girls  and  Ben  that 
the  men  could  n't  quite  gather. 

"  While  he  was  over  there,  the  Elis  sang  : 

"  '  Don't  send  my  boy  to  Princeton, 
He  is  my  only  lad,  etc.,  etc.,' 

and  that  made  the  queen  laugh  and  wave  her 
flag  only  the  harder,  and  pretty  soon  the  two 
teams  came  out  for  preliminary  practice,  and 
Sleuth  trundled  back  to  his  own  coach  again, 
highly  pleased  with  himself,  and  they  all  con 
gratulated  him.  He  said  :— 

"  '  Who  is  she  ?  Why,  she  's  from  Fairfield,— 
she  's  the  very  girl  we  saw  on  horseback, — her 
name  is  Miss  Louise  Palfrey.  She  sent  her 
groom  to  pick  up  my  hat  and  box,  and  ex 
pressed  them  back  to  me !  I  said  that  some 
one  would  pick  'em  up — I  hoped  the  girl  would 
— and  she  did  ! 

"  *  When  I  got  over  there  she  was  telling  a 
Princeton  man  the  incident  :  "  First,  I  saw  a 
hat  fly  out,"  said  she  ;  "  and  then,  to  my  aston 
ishment,  a  hat-box  flew  out  after  it.  And  I 
half  expected  to  see  a  man  come  flying  out 


Old  SleutJis  Level  Head.  1 5 1 

after  the  box, it  was  all  so  queer !  I  sent 

my  groom  for  the  hat  and  box,  and  expressed 
them  at  once  to  the  owner." 

"  '  "  Not  without  a  message,"  said  I,  repeat 
ing  the  poem  she  had  sent. 

"  '  "  Oh  !  "  she  laughed,  blushing,  "  are  you 
the  Mr.  Davidson  ?  " 

"  «  "  I  am  the  man,"  I  laughed,  "  and  I  take 
off  the  very  same  hat  to  you  now  !  " 

"  ' "  This  is  almost  too  good  to  be  true  !  " 
she  laughed,  and  Miss  Lincoln  laughed  too, 
very  much  amused,  and  added,  in  a  whisper  to 
Miss  Palfrey  which  I  overheard,  "  Anything  to 
beat  Yale  !  " 

"*  She  's  awfully  smooth  you  know,  and  full 
of  fun.  It  seems  she  and  Miss  Lincoln  are  old 
friends.  Now,  isn't  it  queer?  and  I  'm  sure 
my  mother  would  say  it  was  all  very  provi 
dential.' 

"  And  Sleuth  the  goat,  beamed  all  over  with 
the  innocent  joy  and  the  excitement  of  first 
love. 

"  Well,  the  teams  lined  up,  the  substitutes 
got  off  behind  the  side  lines,  and  in  a  hushed 
silence  the  great  game  began. 

"  Then   we  gave  a  cheer,   and   the   Nassaus 


152  Yale  Yarns. 

gave  their  '  Siss — Boom  !  '  three  times,  and  we 
quieted  down  again,  and  got  ready  to  do  Prince 
ton  up  in  great  shape,  but  we  could  n't  seem  to 
make  any  headway.  The  ball  was  in  our  ter 
ritory  most  of  the  time.  We  rooted  hard,  too, 
and  did  a  lot  of  shouting  and  yelling,  but  the 
Nassaus  tore  holes  through  our  line  and  played 
horse  with  us.  They  see-sawed  all  around  our 
left  end,  and  it  was  all  we  could  do  to  stand  'em 
off  the  first  half  with  neither  side  a  goal. 

"  Our  dandy  team  played  a  logy,  tired  sort  of 
game,  as  if  each  man  had  been  given  knock-out 
drops,  and  we  all  felt  blue ! 

"  Then,  in  the  intermission,  Sleuth  went  over 
and  talked  to  Miss  Palfrey  again,  and  drank 
champagne,  and  told  of  the  great  things  Yale 
would  do  next  half.  He  bet  gloves  and  candy 
with  her  no  end,  just  to  please  her.  *  Why,'  he 
said,  '  we  '11  push  'em  all  over  the  block  next 
half.  They  're  not  in  it.' 

"  But  when  he  got  back  to  our  coach  he 
shook  his  head,  and  said  the  game  was  a 
sure  goner, — that  Princeton  would  surely  do 
us  up  in  the  second  half.  But  when  the  team 
came  out,  we  gave  'em  the  long  cheer  all  the 
samey ! 


Old  Sleuth's  Level  Head.  1 5  3 


"  Breka  Co     ax  Co     ax  Co     ax  ! 
Breka  Co     ax  Co     ax  Co     ax  ! 
O — up  !     O — up  ! 

Para  Boloo 

Yale!     Yak!     Yak! 
(Ter)  Rah,  Rah,  Rah, 

Yale  !  ! 


"  Then  the  second  half  began  and  it  was 
evident  that  Yale  was  n't  in  it  a  little  bit  ; — 
Princeton  got  a  goal  in  ten  minutes  ; — then  we 
held  'em  down  in  a  desperate  bull-dog  fashion 
till  the  end  ; — it  was  awful ! 

"  I  don't  believe  Old  Sleuth  really  cared  a 
continental  for  the  game.  He  pretended  to  be 
terribly  broken  up  though  ;  and  Miss  Palfrey, 
going  home  on  the  coach,  out  of  pity,  con 
sented  to  wear  his  bunch  of  blue  violets.  It 
was  a  '  crush,'  you  see,  on  both  sides,  and  I 
wish  the  story  ended  just  there,  for  dear  Old 
Sleuth's  sake,  but  it  does  n't. 

"  You  see,  as  soon  as  they  got  back  to  town, 
there  was  the  regular  Thanksgiving  dinner 
party,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  Old  Sleuth  was 
called  out  to  pay  a  bill.  Dewlap  sent  up  their 
bill  for  a  high  hat  and  hat-box. 

"  '  What  fs  this  ?  '  asked  Sleuth  of  the  man,  in 
amazement. 


154  Yale  Yarns. 

"  *  Hat  and  box  purchased  this  morning,' 
said  the  man.  '  Bill  to  be  paid  to-night. 
Them  's  the  orders/ 

"  *  What !  I  never  bought  a  hat  this  morn 
ing.' 

"  '  H.  J.  Davidson  ;  that  's  the  name.  Hat 
and  hat-box  delivered  early  this  morning  too.' 

"  '  Why, — I  thought  that  was- the  one 

I  lost  on  the  train  ! '  gasped  Sleuth,  beginning 
to  catch  on. 

"  *  All  I  knows  on,'  said  the  man,  *  is  that  the 
goods  is  new  and  ain't  paid  fer,  an'  I  want  the 
money — thirteen  dollars.' 

"  Sleuth  coughed  up  the  money,  and  went 
back  to  the  table  a  wiser  and  a  silenter  man 
than  ever.  But  Ben  and  Alice  guyed  him  half 
to  death.  Poor  Old  Sleuth !  It  was  a  put-up 
job !  " 

"  Say, — hold  on,  Little  Jack  !  "  said  his  listen 
ers.  "  You  don't  mean — 

"  I  do  !  It  was  a  clean  beat !  Ben  went 
down  to  Dewlap's  early  that  morning  and  or 
dered  a  new  hat  for  Sleuth  and  a  new  hat-box, 
and  pasted  Sleuth's  card  on  it,  and  it  was  that 
he  found  on  the  hat-stand  !  " 

"  And  the  verses?" 

"  Not  bad,  were  they?     Alice  and  Ben  made 


Old  Sleuth's  Level  Head.  1 5  5 

'em  up,  and  put  up  the  job  just  to  take  the 
conceit  out  of  their  elder  brother  ! 

"  But  Sleuth,  who  never  loses  his  head,  did 
lose  his  heart.  He  admits  he  is  dead  crushed 
on  that  Louise  Palfrey,  who  lives  in  Balti 
more.  But  then,  what  does  a  college  crush 
amount  to  anyway?" 

"  Poor  dear  Old  Sleuth  !  "  laughed  the 
Dwarf. 

"  Oh,  he  just  grinned  and  said  nothing  at  all 
about  it.  He  got  Ben  to  box  four  rounds  with 
soft  gloves  before  he  went  back  to  college,  and 
poor  Ben  (a  plucky  young  chap,  who  will  surely 
make  his  place  on  the  Yale  team  some  day) 
went  back  to  school  with  a  pair  of  lovely  black 
eyes !  Sleuth  told  him  he  was  paying  for  that 
hat !  I  don't  know  what  he  has  on  hand  for 
Alice  ;  but  Sleuth,  with  his  long  head,  will  get 
even  somehow  ! 

"  But  Sleuth  paid  his  bets  like  a  man,  and 
what 's  more,  to  keep  the  grind  on  the  dead 
quiet,  gave  a  very  nice  little  dinner  a  week  later 
at  the  club  (I  was  present),  and  at  which  he  inti 
mated  that  '  All 's  well  that  ends  well,'  and  that 
if  all  went  as  well  as  he  had  reason  to  expect, 
his  engagement  ring  would  probably  cost  his 
whole  month's  allowance  !  " 


NAT  HALE  OF  '73. 

"  DURING  the  Christmas  holidays,"  said 
"  Great  "  Barrington,  one  night,  in  Keith  and 
Horner's  room,  in  Lawrance  Hall,  "  I  was  in 
New  York 

"  Little  Jack  "  was  strumming  to  himself  on 
his  banjo  in  a  corner  and  softly  jingling : 

"  There  's  nothing  in  the  world  goes  wrong, 

Nay,  nay — nay,  nay — 
There  's  nothing  in  the  world  goes  wrong  !  " 

"  Ah,  there,  how  was  the  Tenderloin  ?  Has 
Dr.  Parkhurst  washed  the  Augean  stables  and 
made  the  city  over  new?  What  did  you  see  ? 
And  how  was  dear  Ada  Rehan  ?  " 

This  from  Little  Jack  Horner. 

"  I  was  in  New  York,"  continued  Barrington, 
with  a  serious  air,  "  and  I  had  an  experience — 
with " 

"  Tell  us  who  she  was, — was  it  Tad's  sister 
Nelly  ?     I  hope  not,  because  we  '11  have  to  fight, 
of   course, — coffee   and  pistols,   and   all  that." 
And  Little  Jack  sang — 
156 


Nat  Hale  of  '/j.  1 5  7 

"  And  when  your  hair  is  gray  or  gone,  quite  gone, 
Make  merry  all  the  same,  we  say — \ve  say — we  say — " 

"  I  had  an  experience  which  made  me  feel 
that  we  young  Elis  don't  know  it  all  or  do  it 
all,  after  all,"  continued  Barry. 

"  Which  it  goes  without  sayin'  is  a  very  wise 
ree-mark,"  said  Little  Jack,  solemnly,  laying 
aside  his  banjo. 

"  I  'd  been  down  to  Newspaper  Row,  to  the 
//  's  So  office  to  see  Bud  Thompson  of  Umpty- 
seven,  who  writes  some  of  those  funny  Bow 
er}7  stories, — you  know.  I  left  Bud  at  just 
twelve  o'clock  midnight,  on  Friday  night — 
Hangman's  Day, — and  I  walked  across  City 
Hall  Park  towards  the  Sixth  Avenue  Elevated 
station  at  a  rapid  gait. 

"  There  was  no  one  in  sight,  and  it  was 
storming  a  little,  and  you  can  imagine  I  was 
somewhat  surprised  to  hear  a  voice  call  out 
behind  me,  *  I  say,  are  you  a  Yale  man  ?  So 
am  I,  '73.' 

"  I  stopped  and  waited  a  moment,  but  could 
see  no  one,  and  thought  I  must  have  been 
entirely  mistaken." 

"  Oh,  what  a  jag,  my  boy  !  my  boy  !  "  laughed 
Paige. 


158  Yale  Yarns. 

"  Shut  up  ;  let  him  tell  his  yarn,"  said  the 
"  Dwarf." 

"  I  walked  on,  then  heard  the  voice  again, 
behind  me  : 

"  '  I  say, — hold  on,  there  !  How  are  things  up 
at  New  Haven?  Give  us  the  news.' 

"  I  stopped  again  and  then  went  back. 

"  '  If  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  untie  my 
hands  and  feet,  dear  boy,  I  '11  get  down  and  be 
with  you  for  a  glass  of  good  ale  or  spirits.' 

"  '  Nathan  Hale,  is  that  you  ?  Can  it  be  pos 
sible  ?  Your  voice  ?  Your  very  self  ?  ' 

"  '  Why,  of  course,  my  dear  friend.  Just 
come  and  loosen  my  feet  a  little — confound 
those  British  soldiers — they  can't  even  mur 
der  a  fellow  like  gentlemen !  They  tied  me 
up  like  a  felon  !  ' 

"  I  did  as  he  bid  me,  and  in  another  moment 
the  old  grad.  was  down  by  my  side  off  his  gran 
ite  pedestal,  kicking  off  the  ropes  which  bound 
his  feet,  and  I  was  untying  the  cord  about  his 
wrists.  Gee !  he  was  a  well-built  chap !  and 
mighty  well  bronzed  by  wind  and  weather. 

"'Could  I  get  on  a  foot-ball  team?'  he 
asked,  with  a  laugh. 

"  '  Well,  I  should  smile  ! '  I  replied. 


Nat  Hale  of '/ j.  1 5  9 

"  *  I  can  do  my  hundred  yards  in  nine  sec 
onds,  flat,'  he  said,  stretching  out  his  limbs. 

"  *  Nathan, — Nathan, — don't  try  to  impose 
upon  a  credulous  mortal !  '  I  laughed,  hardly 
believing  my  eyes  and  ears. 

"  '  Can  you  run  with  speed  ?  '  he  asked. 

"  You  chaps  know  I  can  do  my  hundred  in 
eleven  seconds — so  I  thought  I  'd  put  the  old 
grad.  to  the  test.  I  'd  heard  that  he  was  quite 
an  athlete. 

"  '  I  '11  race  you  across  City  Hall  Park, — to 
the  new  Court  House  and  back  !  '  I  said. 
'  Come  ! — for  the  beer  !  ' 

"  We  started.  Well, — I  was  n't  in  it.  Fel 
lows,  he  could  have  beaten  Harry  Brooks  or 
any  other  phenom.  we  ever  could  put  up.  He 
was  a  perfect  hurricane, — a  cyclone.  I  was 
badly  distanced. 

"  *  Now,  as  to  jumping,'  he  said,  as  he 
came  trotting  back,  '  I  've  done  my  twenty- 
eight  feet,  often,  in  camp.  I  can  better  that, 
now, — 

"  '  Gee  Whitaker  !  '  I  said.  '  Did  G.  Wash 
ington  do  the  measuring?  If  he  did, — why, 
of  course,  I  '11  believe  you.' 

"  *  General  Washington  was  my  nearest  rival,' 


160  Yale  Yarns. 

he  laughed.  '  He  did  his  twenty-four  feet,  I 
believe,  and  that  was  his  best.' 

"Then  just  to  show  what  he  could  do,  he 
just  jumped  across  Broadway,  from  curb  to 
curb,  as  light  and  easy  as  a  bird.  I  don't  know 
the  distance. 

"  '  The  beer  is  on  me.  Come  along,  Nat,' 
said  I.  '  You  're  a  daisy  athlete,  and  no  mis 
take  !  '  I  quite  liked  the  old  chap. 

"  We  walked  along  up  Broadway,  and  he  told 
me  that  he  knew  about  every  Yale  man  in  town 
now,  and  gave  'em  a  friendly  glance  as  they 
passed.  '  I  have  to  keep  my  stand — and  a  very 
high  stand  too — '  he  said,  '  on  my  pedestal,  all 
day  till  twelve.  Then  I  can  do  what  I  please 
till  the  cocks  crow.  When  they  first  put  me  up 
in  City  Hall  Park,  I  felt  lonely;  I  thought 
sure  I  was  in  Cork,  not  York,  and  all  I  could 
see  were  Irishmen  or  Italians.  But  now  I  know 
there  are  some  Americans  here, —  and  quite  a  lot 
of  them  take  off  their  hats  to  me,  as  they  pass, 
and  some  stop  to  talk.  My  office  hours,  you 
see,  are  from  sunrise  to  midnight.  I  see  them 
on  the  way  to  the  court  house  you  know, 
Judge  Rowland,  Tommy  Thacher,  George 
Adee,  and  now  and  then  "  Our  Chauncey  "  the 


Nat  Hale  of  ">  j.  161 

"  peach  " — oh — I  know  lots  of  the  young  Yale 
graduates  too — and  they  are  a'mighty  like  the 
fellows  in  my  day — quiet,  hard  working — with 
perhaps  one  case  to  a  dozen  young  limbs  of  the 
law — but  a'mighty  hopeful.' 

"  We  came  to  a  convenient  and  handsomely 
lighted  dive  and  I  invited  Nat  in  to  have 
something. 

"  '  The  trouble  with  me  is,'  said  Nat.  '  They 
did  n't  give  me  a  hat,  you  see,  when  I  was, — 
ahem — and,  with  these  bicycle  trowsers  and 
long  tailed  coat,  and  ruffled  shirt — they  '11  be 
apt  to  fire  me  out,  won't  they  ? ' 

"  '  Not  on  your  ambrotype,  old  man  ! '  I  said. 
'  They  '11  take  you  for  a  foot-ball  player  with  a 
chrysanthemum  shock.  You  just  say  you  're  a 
Yale  man, — that 's  enough.' 

"  '  Well,  it  used  to  be  so — back  in  '73,'  he 
said.  '  Why — we  students  used  to  run  old 
Haven  Town  in  my  day ' 

"  So  we  went  down  into  a  comfortable  little 
place  and  took  seats  on  either  side  of  a  grate 
fireplace,  beside  an, old  mahogany  table. 

"  '  What 's  your  class  ?  '  Nat  asked  me. 

""93.' 

u  *  Just  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  below 


1 62  Yale  Yarns. 

me,'  he  laughed  ; — the  pleasantest  laugh  I  ever 
heard.  And  as  he  got  warm  before  the  fire 
and  the  barkeeper  made  him  a  glass  of  hot 
negus,  or  some  such  stuff  Nat  called  it  (I  throw 
this  in  for  a  historic  touch  !  "  laughed  Barry — "  I 
took  a  hot-scotch),  his  face  began  to  relax,  and 
he  smiled  as  he  drank,  and  said  :  '  Well,  Yale 
sand  seems  to  be  still  a  drug  in  the  market, 
from  all  I  hear.' 

"  '  You  refer  to  athletics, — well,  yes.  We 
are  holding  our  own  pretty  well  this  century, 
thank  you. ' 

"'  It  was  a  pity  the  war  took  place  just 
when  it  did.  It  spoiled  my  career  as  an  ath 
lete,'  he  said.  *  I  held  the  mile  record  in  my 
time.  There  was  an  Indian  named  Uncas, — er 
—a  fellow  named  Cooper  (Yale  '06)  wrote  him 
up  afterwards  ;  a  Delaware, — he  did  the  mile  in 
3.04 — on  the  shore  at  Savin  Rock.  We  used 
to  think  that  pretty  good  in  those  days.' 

"  We  had  more  negus  and  more  hot-scotch. 
'  If  I  had  time, '  he  said,  '  I  'd  run  up  and  see  how 
the  old  college  has  grown.  In  my  day  we  had 
just  the  Chapel  and  North, — since  called  South 
Middle.  I  roomed  my  two  years  in  North 
South,  fourth  back  middle.  Jehoshaphat !  how 


Nat  Hale  of '?3-  l63 

our  boys  did  catch  the  war  fever !  In  our 
class  of  twenty-three  fellows,  eleven  went  to 
join  the  Continental  Army.  The  pick  of  the 
class  went  to  the  war,  and  how  the  New  Haven 
belles  cried  over  us !  There  was  a  little  girl — 
my  stepsister,  too: — 

"  Nat  toyed  with  his  negus,  musing. 

"  '  There  was  a  little  girl  with  lovely  brown 
eyes, — and  she  begged  and  begged  me  not  to 
go.  But  I  laughed  and  went.  Jehoshaphat  ! 
The  poor  dear  little  thing  cried  like  her  heart 
would  break.  That  was  at  New  London,  you 
know,  where  I  was  at  the  time  teaching  school. 

"  '  "  You  '11  never  come  back,  Nat,"  she  said  ; 
and  I  never  did,  as  you  know. 

"'"  Nat  Hale,"  she  whispered  the  last  thing 
in  my  ear,  "  Nat  Hale," — she  was  all  pale  and 
trembling,  for  she  fancied  she  was  looking 
Death  in  the  face  ; — "  Nat  Hale,  we  shall  meet 
in  heaven !  " 

"  '  "  No,  no,  Nancy,  right  here  on  the  shore  of 
New  London  harbor,  where  we  've  often  walked 
beneath  the  thick  maples  and  pines,  and  beau 
tiful  elms." 

"  '  "  Are  you  prepared,  Nat  ?  ' 

"  '  "  I  hope  so    ..."  Why,  you  know,  a  fel- 


164  Yale  Yarns. 

low  was  n't  thinking  about  dyin'  just  when  he 
heard  a  fife  an*  drum  and  saw  the  soldiers 
marching  up  the  street,  off  for  Boston  and  Bun 
ker  Hill  ! 

"  '  "  Oh,  Nat,  if  I  could  wear  the  breeches,— 
I  'd  go  along  with  you  !  "  That  's  just  what 
she  said,  "  Oh,  Nat,  if  I  could  wear  the  breeches, 
I  'd  go  along  with  you  !  " 

"  *  Then,  I  guess  I  laughed  !  Ha  !  ha !  I 
caught  the  maid  in  my  arms,  and  such  a  bussin' 
and  a  kissin'  she  got  that  day !  '  Then  he 
sighed,  *  Poor  soul !  Poor  soul  ! 

"•*  For  without  being  promised,  sweet  Mis 
tress  Nancy  and  I  would  ha'  been  wed  in  secret 
in  due  time;  nor  would  I  never  ha'  been  a 
minister  neither,  as  my  father  wished, — but  we 
planned  to  be  married  on  the  sly  and  to  go 
down  to  York, — together, — she  and  I. 

"  *  Oh,  it 's  the  army  after  all,  the  army  makes 
the  man  !  and  fighting  man  to  man  in  the  field 
was  what  I  loved,  and  longed  for!  Ah  me,  to 
get  into  active  service  for  my  country — that 
was  what  I  longed  for. 

"  *  "  And,"  she  says,  "  I  fear  for  you,  Nat,  and 
I  pray  at  morning,  at  noon,  and  at  night  for 
And  may  God  be  near  you  in  the  time 


Nat  Hale  of  '/j.  165 

of  your  trial " — she  spoke  very  solemn,  I  can 
tell  you  ! 

"'"What  trial,  Nancy?  Am  I  to  be  tried 
like  a  common  culprit  ? — perhaps  hanged  to  a 
gibbet,  ha,  ha  !  for  a  deserter?" 

"  *  She  shuddered,  poor  girl — "  Ah,  God,— 
it 's  not  that ; — but  in  your  hour  of  peril. 
You  are  brave  and  honorable,  Nat ;  you  will 
dare  anything  for  sake  of  what  you  call '  glory/ 
An'  I  know  that  a  gentleman  will  go  further 
for  glory  than  common  folk,  too  !  "  Then  you 
ought,  brother  Yalensian,  t'  have  seen  the  tears 
that  dimmed  that  pair  of  brown  eyes !  Tears  of 
pride  they  were  !  tears  of  real  old  English  pride, 
for  we  both  were  English  blood  to  the  bone,  as 
you  know,  and  we  had  the  English  love  of  honor, 
— and  we  were  so  soon  to  be  pitted  against — 
Hessians  !  hirelings  ! — butchers  !  Faugh  ! 

" '  So  I  kissed  her  again,  quick,  and  was  off, 
for  I  heard  down  the  street  and  far  away  the 
rat-a-tat-tat  of  the  drums. 

" '  But  she  hung  to  me,  and  clung  to  me 
and  called  me  her  old  pet  names  and  rubbed 
her  smooth  little  chin  against  my  rough  face, 
and  the  drums  grew  louder,  and  I  turned 
away — 


1 66  Yale  Yarns. 

"  '  Still  she  held  me  close  to  her, — and  our 
love  was  a  secret,  mind,  for  fear  of  her  father 
by  law,  and  my  father  too  ; — and  all  this  was 
in  the  forest  near  City  School,  at  New  London, 
where  none  could  see.  A  pretty  trysting-place, 
—I  fancy  it 's  all  gone  away  now, — long  since 
• — long  since. 

"  '  And  I  said,—"  Ah,  God,"— I  said  it  half 
roughly,  for  the  drums  rang  in  my  ears,  and 
the  fever  of  the  war  took  hold  of  me.  I  said, 
"  Come,  come,  sweet !  let  me  from  you  !  After 
the  war  's  over  and  the  British  driven  home  to 
old  England, — then  there  '11  be  time  enough 
for  our  billin'  and  cooin'  !  Farewell,  my  little 
Nancy  !  Farewell !  Farewell  !  " 

"  There  was  a  long  silence.  I  felt  really 
sorry  for  Nat,  for  he  sighed  so  deeply. 

"  '  And  I  never  saw  her  again,  but  once — 

"  He  paused  and  shook  with  emotion. 

" '  In  the  sea  of  faces  behind  the  row  of 
Hessians — on  the  field  beneath  the  apple-trees 
— Rutger's  orchard — I  looked  longingly  for  a 
face  I  knew,  an'  I  heard  a  cry,  "  Nat  Hale !  Nat 
Hale !  "  and  I  saw  Her  face.  Friend,  it  was 
sunny  with  smiles.  Friend,  she  was  alone,  and 
then  I  knew  she  'd  come  all  the  way  alone  to 


Nat  Hale  of '? 3-  l67 

New  York, — she  had  run  away  from  home  to 
see  the  last  of  me — but  the  cruel  Provost  Cun 
ningham  would  let  no  one  see  me, — no,  not  my 
own  mother ! — Oh,  how  cruel  he  was  !  But  I 
saw  Her.  I  saw  all  in  a  glance,  and  everything 
that  day  was  forgotten  but  love.  She  had 
come  all  the  way  from  New  London,  where  I 
had  been  so  happy, — and,  brave  heart,  she 
brought  her  sweet  laughing  face  to  make  my 
last  hour  less  sad.  Ah  well ;  they  called  me  a 
hero, — the  people, — I  could  hear  them  mur 
muring  like  a  sullen  wind, — but  there  was  a 
greater  hero  than  I  there, — and  as  I  died,  I 
died  clasped  in  spirit  in  her  loving  arms ! 

"  *  What  of  it !  Death  is  better  than  dis 
honor  !  It  was  my  hard  luck,  that  was  all ;  my 
luck  and  some  of  the  old  Yale  sand,  which 
kept  me  true  to  my  country.  What  's  Yale  is 
American — that  's  all ;  and,  there  's  plenty  of 
the  same  sand  left  up  there  at  the  old  college, 
— and  when  wanted, — called  for,  and  ready,  too, 
as  I  noted  in  the  Civil  War ' 

"  '  She  married  ?  '  I  asked. 

"Nat  frowned.  'She  marry?  She  died  of 
a  broken  heart,  poor  child  !  Do  we  meet  now, 
you  ask  ;  are  we  united  ?  Ah,  friend,  the  after 


1 68  Yale  Yarns. 

world  is  but  a  reflection  of  life  here.  I  dream 
and  we  meet  in  dreams.  She  's  in  the  music,  in 
the  far  mellow  ring  of  bells ;  she  's  in  the  colors 
of  the  sunset,  in  the  clouds  that  float  over  the 
river.  She  lingers  in  the  deep  blue  of  the  ocean, 
— in  all  that  is  rare  and  beautiful — but  other 
than  that,  she  is  not.  For  love  such  as  ours, 
alas,  is  only  for  life,  and  then  it  ends.' 

"  He  bowed  his  head  on  the  table  in  sor 
row. 

"  In  order  to  be  a  little  more  cheerful,  I  called 
for  more  negus  and  more  whisky.  Nat  said 
he  'd  rather  like  a  taste  of  some  old  New  Eng 
land  rum,  as  he  liked  a  sip  of  it  when  in  college 
very  well.  The  waiter  brought  a  bottle  and 
two  glasses. 

"  '  Tell  me  of  your  college  days 

" '  Oh,  like  yours,  I  daresay.  Nat  Daggett 
was  president.  Can  we  get  a  pipe  do  you 
fancy  ?  Tim  Dwight  was  my  tutor.' 

"  '  Here,  try  one  of  these  cigars  ;  you  '11  like 
them.' 

"  '  I  Ve  seen  Spaniards  smoking  them,  and 
now  I  see  them  on  the  street, — often.  (He  lit 
it  and  drew  in.)  Jehoshaphat !  That  makes  me 
forget  my  troubles,  Dear  old  Yale !  I  love 


Nat  Hale  of  '/j.  169 

thee  as  much  as  ever — in  spite  of  the  Faculty  ! 
As  old  Tim  Dwight  wrote  : 

"  '  Alma  Mater.     Here  's  to  thee  ! 

Nourisher  of  liberty 
In  those  parlous  times  of  late, 

When  our  Nation  hung  in  fate 
Yale  !  thy  sand  was  useful  then. 

Yale  !  thou  borest  mighty  men. 

" '  Ah,  yes.  I  was  only  twenty-one  when  I 
died.  I  graduated  when  I  was  eighteen,  and 
we  had  a  great  Syllogistic  debate.  Bill  Robin 
son  and  I  argued  for  woman's  higher  education, 
and  won  it  too !  Wish  I  could  hear  of  Yale's 
winning  an  occasional  debate  with  Harvard 
now-a-days.  Ah,  we  had  a  splendid  class, — 
old '73.  Jim  Hillhouse — the  finest  chap  that 
ever  lived  ;  Ez.  Samson ;  Selden  of  Lyme,  a 
grand  chap  he  ;  Dave  Humphreys  ; — Wyllys  of 
Hartford  ;  Jack  Brown,  Sherman,  and  Hunt- 
ington, — all  those  fine  fellows.  They  all  went 
into  the  war,  as  I  did,  and  Tallmadge  of  '  73 
captured  Andre", —  and  saw  him  hanged,  as 
they  hanged  me.  Was  n't  that  odd,  now,  my 
friend  ?  Yes,  sir,  Major  Tallmadge  and  I,  we 
were  chums  at  Yale,  and  he  captured  Andr£ ! 


170  Yale  Yarns. 

But  Andre  was  not  denied  even  a  Bible  on  the 
hour  of  his  death,  nor  the  kind  offices  of  friends, 
as  I  was.  Ah  me,  it  was  a  sad,  heart-breaking 
sight  to  see  my  last  letters  of  farewell  to  my 
mother  and  sweetheart  Nancy  burned  in  my 
very  sight ! ' 

"  *  You  have  a  glorious  name, — deathless,— 
renowned  forever,'  I  said. 

"'I'm  very  well  satisfied  nozv.  At  most,  I 
might  have  lived  to,  say  1840,  and  by  this  time 
I  would  have  been  fifty  years  under  the  sod,  in 
any  event.  And,  too,  my  name  is  getting  to 
be  better  known  than  ever  before.  For  fifty 
years  my  countrymen  utterly  forgot  me.  Then 
came  my  monument  at  South  Coventry, — and 
then  a  statue  in  Boston,  and  now  one  here, 
where  I  died,  but  not  on  the  exact  spot.  Rut- 
ger's  orchard  was  about  the  corner  of  East 
Broadway  and  Market  street.  But  the  old  jail, 
now  Hall  of  Records,  still  stands  where  I  spent 
my  last  night.  I  was  tried  and  sentenced  by 
Sir  William  Howe  at  Fifty-second  street  and 
First  avenue. 

" '  And  did  you  die  from  a  cart  ?  ' 

"  *  Yes,  I  was  served  up  a  la  carte, — Ha — ha ! 
I  have  the  laugh  on  them  all  now,  eh  ?  And 


Nat  Hale  of  '7 j>.  i  7 1 

Brute  Cunningham,  the  Provost,  to  my  certain 
knowledge,  is  writhing  in  hell,  where  he  be 
longs, — All  's  well  that  ends  well 

" '  Amen  !  ' 

"  '  And  if  my  death  inspired  my  classmates 
and  fellow  soldiers  with  courage, — it  was  more 
useful  than  my  life  might  have  been.  The  say 
ing,  "  It  '11  all  be  right  in  a  hundred  years  !  "  is 
true.  \Ve  realize  now  that  it  is  moral  force 
and  moral  strength  of  character,  under  God, 
that  is  what  we  are  to  show  on  earth.  That  is 
what  they  taught  the  sons  of  Eli  in  my  time, 
and  that  is  what  they  teach  now.  Be  brave, 
and  true,  and  honorable,  whether  called  on  to 
die,  or  live  !  ' 

"  '  Do  you  know  what  I  'd  like  to  see  ?  A 
statue  of  you  on  the  Yale  campus/ 

"  '  Oh,  there  's  no  need  now.  It  will  come  in 
time,  perhaps.  I  should  like  it  very  well.  The 
country  has  grown  rich  and  great,  thousands  of 
foreigners  of  the  poorest  class  have  come  in 
here.  It  may  be  well  to  impress  on  these  the 
high  value  of  free  institutions,  and  with  what 
difficulty  they  were  obtained.  But  I  am  fully 
aware  that  personal  liberty  is  assured  for  all 
time  and  that  the  new  heroes  to  come  will  be 


172  Yale  Yarns. 

called  on  to  give  up  their  lives,  not  for  liberty, 
but  for  equality  and  fraternity.' 

"  Nathan  Hale  of  Yale,  '73,  rose  to  go. 
'  I  Ve  enjoyed  seeing  you,  and  talking  with 
you,  very  much/  he  said.  '  I  have  n't  asked  as 
much  as  I  would  like  about  your  recitations, 
debates,  meetings,  and  your  sports.  We  had  a 
small  affair  in  1773,  like  some  small  school  of 
now-a-days,  but  we  made  warm  friendships  and 
had  our  songs  and  jokes, — and  good  old  rum, 
too,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  we  were,  many  of  us, 
preparing  for  the  ministry.  Oh,  yes,  we  were 
true  college  boys, — and  boys  are  the  same  yes 
terday,  to-day,  and  forever  !  Well, — I  Ve  got 
a  good  many  things  to  do  to-night,  I  Ve  got  to 
walk  down  to  the  Treasury  building  and  meet 
George — for  one  thing — and  I  must  go.' 

"  And  we  shook  hands,  and  with  a  kindly 
smile  and  bow  which  showed  him  to  be  a  fine 
type  of  the  old  school  gentleman,  he  was  off." 

There  was  a  short  silence  as  Harrington  fin 
ished. 

"  It 's  hard  to  realize  that  the  famous  Nathan 
Hale,  the  martyr  of  the  Revolution,  was  after 
all  a  hail-fellow-well-met,  at  college — just  like 
one  of  us,"  said  Keith. 


Nat  Hale  of  * 7 3-  !73 

"  Hale  of  '73.  Hail — to  thee  !  He  's  an 
honor  to  the  old  college !  He  'd  get  on  the 
nine  and  crew  and  team, — and  win  the  debate 
with  the  Harvard  for  us,  too — eh  ?  "  cried 
Little  Jack,  enthusiastically. 

"  Yes, — there  was  nothing  Hale  of  '73  could  n't 
do  well,"  said  Barrington,  gravely.  u  Except 
lying " 

"  How  's  that.     That  's  dead  easy  !  " 

"  If  he  'd  been  clever  at  that,  the  British 
never  would  have  captured  him.  But  he  had 
a  sort  of  high  and  mighty  disdain  for  deceit, — 
and,  like  a  gentleman,  he  owned  up  at  once 
what  he  was, — a  spy." 

"  He  was  a  gentleman  !  "  said  Keith. 

Little  Jack  shook  his  head.  "  He  was  n't  in 
the  right  place  then,  and  George  Washington 
underestimated  his  man  when  he  let  him  act 
as  a  spy.  He  belonged  way  up, — he  ought  to 
have  been  made  a  general.  Why,  they  threw 
away  too  valuable  a  man,  fellows  ;  I  say  it  was 
a  shame !  " 

Little  Jack  Horner  began  to  get  excited. 

"  I  say  it  was  a  shame  and  a  sin  to  let  that 
noble-hearted  old  grad.  of  '73  go  and  play  spy 
as  he  did.  \Vhy  in  the  name  of  all  the  pro- 


174  Yah  Yarns. 

phets  did  n't  they  send  a  nigger?  Any  one 
would  have  done  better  than  he.  Yes,  sir, 
he  was  too  great  a  man  !  " 

"  Why  then, — to  act  as  he  did  then,  he  was 
far  and  away  the  grandest  old  grad.  Yale  has 
ever  had  ! " 

"  Well, — he  just  was  ; — he  was  square,  modest, 
gentle,  good-hearted,  brave,  plucky  with  the 
'  sand  '  of  a  lot  of  pure-minded  Puritan  ances 
tors.  Gad  !  He  was  the  greatest  Yale  man 
that  ever  lived  !  "  said  Barrington  simply. 

And,  after  a  little,  the  talk  fell  on  other 
matters. 


THE  DAWN  TEA. 

Scene  : — A  cozy  student's  room  in  Lawrance  Hall.  Time 
4.30  A.M.  of  the  morning  after  the  Prom. 

Present,  in  evening  dress,  Mrs.  Montgomery,  Chaperon  ; 
Miss  Helen  Montgomery,  Miss  Clara  Powers,  Miss  Kitty 
Nelson,  some  of  the  usual  crowd  of  Seniors.  The  girls  look 
more  or  less  worn  and  fagged,  and  have  just  come  from  the 
Prom. 

(A  side  table,  on  which  cups  and  saucers  are  set  out  and  tea 
is  steeping,  and  several  bottles  of  iced  champagne  are  standing 
wrapped  in  napkins,  and  glasses,  presided  over  by  Honest 
John,  the  college  sweep,  in  an  alpaca  coat  and  clean  white 
apron.) 

Mrs.  Montgomery  {doing  her  duty  as  chape 
ron,  throwing  off  her  heavy  opera  cloak'].  Are 
you  quite  sure,  Mr.  Paige,  that  the  sun  rises,  as 
you  say,  at  five  ?  This  making  a  night  of  it 
is  a  little  wearisome.  I  feel  quite  dragged. 
[Sinks  into  a  chair  and  pulls  off  her  glove sl\ 

Little  Jack  Horncr  [aside].  Poor  old  dra 
gon  !  \_Goes  about  turning  up  several  pretty 
lamps,  half  concealed  in  deep  red,  white,  and 
yellow  shadesJ] 

Miss    Montgomery  {turning  to   Miss  Powers, 


I  76  Yale  Yarns. 

whispers  anxiously}.  Clara,  I  'm  dead  with 
sleep  ; — do  tell  me  how  I  look  ? 

Miss  Powers.     Like  a  funeral,  dear  ; — and  I  ? 

Miss  Montgomery.  Like  a  last  week's  "Amer 
ican  Beauty."  [Both  smile  sweetly^] 

Boots  Paige  {concealing1  a  yawn~\.  Poor  Mrs. 
Montgomery!  {Turning  to  herJ]  Have  you 
enjoyed  the  Prom.? 

Mrs.  Montgomery.  Very  much.  I  have  a 
way  of  sleeping,  you  know.  I  can  fall  asleep 
anywhere, — sometimes  it  is  positively  ludicrous  ! 
Thanks,  no  champagne  for  me.  [Honest 
John  passes  around  a  tray  on  which  are  half  a 
dozen  glasses^ 

[  Under  the  Red  Lamp^\ 

Miss  Kitty  Nelson  [politely  conceals  a  yawn]. 
It  was  a  jolly  ball, — not  quite  so  eventful  as 
last  year's.  [  Takes  a  glass  of  champagne.'] 

Sprague.  No.  I  should  say  not !  [Aside 
to  herl\  I  wish  you  would  n't,  Kitty.  You 
know  what  I  think  about  it. 

Miss  Kitty  [smiles,  and  puts  aside  the  glass 
untasted~\.  But  I  enjoyed  it  better.  [Turning 
to  the  chaperon.']  When  one  's  engaged,  Mrs. 
Montgomery,  one  dances  with  a  positive  fury, 


The  Dawn  Tea.  177 

— knowing  that  the  opportunities  are  growing 
less. 

[Mrs.  Montgomery  {drowsily^.  But,  my  dear, 
—there  are — married — balls.  {She  closes  her 
eyes  as  if  exhaustedl\ 

Miss  Kitty.     Unfortunately  not  for  us  ! 

Mrs.  Montgomery.  Three  days  of  this  sort 
of  thing, — I  fear  will  be  the  death  of  me. 

Little  Jack  Homer.  Poor  dear  lady ! — The 
dawn  tea  appears  to  be  just  the  feather  that 
breaks  the  dragon's  back  ! 

Miss  Kitty.  We  expect  to  live  in  Ohio, 
don't  we,  Dick,  dear?  and  out  there  I  fancy 
marriages  and  deaths  are  the  same  thing. 

Little  Jack  \teasingl)^\.  Poor  girl !  Why  do 
you  marry  the  Dwarf,  anyway  ?  He  deprives 
you  of  the  fizz,  and  it 's  ten  to  one  he  does  n't 
really  love  you  a  little  bit 

Miss  Kitty.  Perhaps.  It  was  only  half-past 
nine  when  he  last  vowed  and  declared  he  did. 

Sprague.     Don't  listen  to  him,  Kitty  ! 

Miss  Helen  Montgomery  [from  the  corner 
of  the  sofa~\.  Do  nudge  mamma,  some  one,  and 
keep  her  awake.  It  is  aw  fid.  This  is  in  the 
midst  of  college,  and  we  are  surrounded  by 
hundreds, — thousands  of  men 


i  78  Yale  Yarns. 

Miss  Powers.  Surrounded, — but  we  '11  never 
surrender ! 

[  They  nudge  Mrs.  Montgomery,  gently  I\ 

Mrs.  Montgomery  [opening  her  eyes,  and  try 
ing  to  look  very  wide  awake].  These  dawn  teas, 
as  you  call  them,  are  quite  new,  they  say. 
They  are  very  nice,  jolly  affairs, — very — jolly  ! 
Just  at  this  time  if  one  cannot  sleep — a  little 
nourishment  is  quite  necessary.  Have  you  any 
bouillon? — I  never  drink  champagne. 

\_A  tray  is  passed  around  by  Honest  John  the 
Thief,  containing  bouillon,  Russian  tea,  candies, 
fruits,  preserves,  biscuits,  cake,  etcJ] 

Mrs.  Montgomery.  Really,  what  a  variety — 
Do  you  get  all  these  things  from  commons? 

Little  Jack.     No, — only  the  spoons. 

[  Under  the  Yellow  Lamp.~] 

Miss  Clara  Powers.  Yes,  there  are  lots  of 
things — such  bright  things, — one  remembers 
just  after  one  has  left  the  floor, — and  now  one 
has  a  chance  to  get  them  off, — I  believe  that 's 
the  raison  d'etre  of  a  dawn  tea. 

Little  Jack  Horncr.  Then  be  good  natured 
and  say  some  of  those  bright  things, — it  may 
keep  us  awake ! 


TJie  Dawn  Tea.  1  79 

Miss  Clara.  Really,  —  I  have  n't  thought 
them  up  yet,  —  I  am  not  feeling  particularly 
clever,  just  now  —  That  is  —  Dear  me!  I  danced 
every  dance  ! 

"Austin  {sentimentally'}.  Like  a  beautiful 
fairy  !  Ah,  Miss  Powers,  my  heart,  etc,,  etc. 
If  you  only  knew,  etc.,  etc. 

Miss  Clara  [sedately'].  Don't  !—  Really,—  I 
am  over  tired  as  it  is,  Mr.  Austin. 

Little  Jack  \as  Austin  tremblingly  pours 
out  a  glass  of  champagne'}.  Why  do  you 
tremble  so,  Adolphus? 

Austin.     My  best   girl    has  just  shook  me  ! 


Miss  Clara.  You  refer  to  me?  How  I  wish 
I  could  ! 

Tad  Xclson  [handing"  around  a  tray  of  tea  and 
Educators  —  whispers}.  For  Heaven's  sake,  Jack, 
drink  some  tea  and  stimulate  your  brain.  We 
depend  on  you  to  keep  things  going,  you  know, 
and  things  are  going  slow  as  molasses  - 

Little  Jack  \jnaking  a  brace}.  I  heard  quite 
a  poor  thing  gotten  off  by  Aldrich,  of  our  class. 
He  's  a  great  chess  man,  you  know,  —  he  said 
he  'd  given  up  two  knights  to  one  queen. 
[  Yaitms.}  I  thought  he  'd  made  a  poor  exchange. 


180  Yale  Yarns. 

Miss  Clara.  Who  is  Mr.  Aldrich's  "  queen," 
at  present  ? 

Little  Jack  {thoughtfully}.  Well,— I  know 
who  was  /  I  think  he  's  with  her  somewhere 
now,  wandering  about  on  his  way  here. 
[  Yawns .]  I  say,  \with  an  effort  to  be  entertain 
ing}  on  the  whole,  dawn  tea  cups  are  not 
what  they  are  cracked  up  to  be.  [A  sympa 
thetic  silence."] 

[Little  Jack  looks  hopelessly  around  the  room. 
Barrington  and  Miss  Montgomery  are  seated  on 
the  zvindow  seat.  Miss  Montgomery's  eyes  are 
closed .] 

Little  Jack.  I  say,  Great,  you  're  not  in  a 
prize  fight !  Trying  to  put  your  opponent  to 
sleep  ? 

Barrington.  No,  but  see,  I  have  closed  both 
her  eyes ! 

Miss  Montgomery  {awaking  suddenly].  Er — 
what? — Oh,  as  you  were  saying,  er — 

Paige  \in  a  loud  cheerful  voice"].  Have  some 
sandwiches, — some  of  the  pate,  Miss  Montgom 
ery.  By  the  way,  your  mother  is  peacefully 
asleep  again,  and  we  Ve  gently,  but  firmly  led 
her  into  an  adjoining  room,  to  sleep  undis 
turbed  ; — we  chatter  too  much  in  here.  It  is 


The  Dawn  Tea.  1 8 1 

no  time  to  chatter,  but  to  eat,  sleep,  and  try 
to  be  merry. 

Miss  Montgomery.  And  we  are  unchaper- 
oned  !  O  heavens !  [Rises  as  if  to  go  to  her 
mother.] 

Paige  [with  assumed  earnestness].  Let  me 
be  your  chaperon — confide  in  me — What  is 
it? 

Miss  Montgomery  [putting  her  hand  up  to  her 
hair].  I  think  I  Ve  danced  my  hair  down,  for 
one  thing. 

Paige.     Well,  I  '11  be  switched  ! 

Miss  Montgomery  [laughing']  You  are  so 
funny,  Mr.  Paige! 

Tad  Nelson  [goes  to  window].  But  see ! 
the  rosy  fingers  of  dawn  are  upon  the  morning 
sky  !  It 's  getting  brighter  !  [  YawnsJ] 

Little  Jack.  Yes, — I  wish  we  were  !  [  Turn 
ing  to  several  girlsJ]  Won't  you  have  some 
champagne  ? 

Chorus  of  girls.  No, — we  've  decided  not 
to — It 's  bad  form 

Little  Jack.  To  drink  anything  but  cock 
tails  at  this  hour — But  how  did  you  know  ? 

Chorus  of  girls.     You  are  perfectly  horrid ! 

[  The  door  opens  and  in  walks  Miss  Eleanor 


182  Yale  Yarns. 

Swift,  shivering  with  the  cold,  ivith  Laze  Al 
drich,  the  latter  in  a  heavy  fur -lined  ulster  I\ 

Chorus.     Well, — where  have  you  been? 

Miss  Swift.  Foraging.  \_Looks  about  J]  Where 
is, — is — Mrs.  Montgomery — Oh,  I  'm  nearly 
dead. 

Chorus.     The  chaperon  is  asleep — Hush  ! 

Miss  Swift  [shivering].  We  got  lost,  did  n't 
we,  Mr.  Aldrich,  and  we  'd  no  idea  where  you 
all  were.  [  Throws  off  her  wrapJ]  Oh,  I  'm  as 
hungry  and  tired  as  a  Feejee  missionary.  I 
am  danced  out, — spun  out,  —  talked  out, — 
laughed  out, 

Little  Jack.     Put  out? 

Miss  Swift.  Not  yet — Expect  to  be  if  I 
harlg  on  here  at  Yale  much  longer  ! 

Little  Jack  \_laughing].  Oh,  no,  you  will 
never  be  fired, — you  're  not  wicked  enough  for 
that! 

Aldrich.  You  see, — we  thought  you  were 
all  over  at  Battersby's  tea  in  Durfee,  and  we 
went  there.  They  yawned  graveyards  at  us, 
— and  made  us  tired.  And  so  we  went  to  Jim 
Allen's  tea  in  Farnam.  All  asleep  in  chairs 
there, — plates  in  their  laps, — woke  them  up  ! 
It  looked  like  a  field  of  battle  after  the  fight— 


The  Dawn  Tea.  183 

the  dead   and  wounded   waiting  to  be  carried 
away.     Oh,  these  dawn  teas  are  the  stuff ! 

[Under  the  White  Lamp] 

Miss  Sivift  {seating  herself  in  an  easy  chair]. 
Tell  me  who  invented  the  dawn  tea  ?  It  is  so 
very  weird  ! 

Little  Jack.  It  is  certainly  not  what  you  'd 
call  a  rum  idea, — is  it  ! 

Miss  Swift.  That  depends !  [Hastily.']  I 
think  the  man  who  invented  the  dawn  tea 
should  be  hoist  in  his  own  teapot ! 

Paige.     Yes;  hung,  quartered, — and  drawn. 

Aldrich.  I  think  it  came  in  with  the  beau 
tiful  and  pathetic  song,  You  cant  leave  me, 
Charlie  !  [Laughter. ~] 

Miss  Swift.  Never  saw  such  devotion  the 
last  two  days  in  all  my  life.  As  I  said  to  Mr. 
Aldrich, — "  are  we  never  to  part  ?  " 

Aldrich.  And  I  said,  you  remember,  "  No," 
and  then  you  said,  "Ah,  me, — it's  just  like 
heaven,  then,  isn't  it?" 

Miss  Swift  [indignantly].  Mr.  Aldrich,  you 
have  a  brilliant  imagination  ! 

Aldrich  [half  whisper  s\  To  me  it  would 
be  heaven  ! 


184  Yale  Yarns. 

Paige  \ppening  the  heavy  curtains  and  let 
ting  in  the  gray  morning  light'].  Poor  girls ! 
Poor  girls !  Prithee,  why  so  pale  ?  Wait !  Let 
me  turn  the  colloseum  on  to  Juliet ! 

Aldrich  [whispers  to  Paige}.  Something 
must  be  done  !  It 's  awful  slow — What  shall 
we  do  to  wake  them  up  ? 

Paige.     Play  our  last  trump ! 

[A  Idrich  winks  and  hovers  for  a  moment  over 
the  red  tea  cups  arranged  on  the  tray.  Honest 
John  the  Thief  laughs,  and  Aldrich  thumps  him 
on  the  backJ] 

Honest  John.  Dat  's  de  greatest  impositium 
dat  I  eber  see  played  ; — dat  red  tea  is  queered  ! 
Hi!  hi! 

Aldrich  [whispers].  Shut  up,  you  black 
rascal !  Keep  dark !  Be  sure  and  serve  the 
red  cups  only  to  the  men, — do  you  hear?  I 
would  n't  have  the  ladies  drink  it,  of  course, — 
for  anything  in  the  world.  Remember,  the 
cognac  is  in  the  red  cups  only. 

Miss  Montgomery  \leans  back  in  her  chair}. 
I  wonder  where  papa  is.  You  know,  he  always 
calls  for  us  and  takes  us  home.  It 's  a  way  he 
has.  And  what  will  he  say  to  poor  mamma's 
deserting  the  ship  ? 


The  Dawn  Tea.  185 

Little  Jack.  That  the  dawn  tea  was  too 
great  a  hardship. 

Miss  Montgomery  [seriously].  Papa  is  a 
clergyman,  you  know. 

Paige  [aside  to  Miss  Swift'].  Really  !  that 's 
nothing  against  him  !  At  least  he  can  give  us 
a  benediction  ! 

Honest  John  the  Thief  [passing  around  the 
tray  of  Russian  tea].  De  blue  cups  is  ladies', 
ma'm,  yes,  ma'm 

Miss  Montgomery  [sipping,  but  not  drinking]. 
It  seems  rather  weak.  It  needs  more  steeping, 
Mr.  Aldrich,  and  more  lemon,  and  more — 

Aldrich  [laughing  to  himself].  Oh,  does  it  ? 
Well,  the  next  will  be — stronger. 

Miss  Powers.  I  think  it 's  too  strong.  [Barely 
tastes  the  teaJ] 

Miss  Swift  [who  kas  quietly  insisted  upon  tak 
ing  a  red  cup].  It's  delicious,  Mr.  Aldrich, — 
but  it  is  n't  tea — it  's  punch.  [Tries  to  look  in 
dignant^] 

Aldrich.     It  's  gin-seng.      Don't  say  a  word  ! 

[Under  the  Red  Lamp.] 

Miss  Kitty  Nelson  [returning  from  an  obscure 
corner  with  Sprague].  Oh,  give  me  a  red  cup. 


1 86  Yale  Yarns. 

One  lump,  please.  [Drinks^]  How  refreshing 
Russian  tea  is !  {Looks  at  PaigeJ]  You  wicked 
boy ! 

Paige.  Hush!  'T  was  n't  me, — as  done  it! 
It 's  only  for  us  fellows,  anyway  !  Don't  give 
the  tea  away  ! 

Kitty.  No,  I  want  it  myself.  But  you  can 
tell  it  by  its  breath. 

Paige.  Yes, — we  can  ! — we  old, — ahem  !  They 
can't,  the  innocents  ! 

Kitty  \_provoked~].  I  'm  going  to  warn  every 
body  the  red  tea  is  drugged  ! 

Paige.  No,  don't !  Perhaps  they  know  it, 
and  like  it ;  and  if  you  do, — they  won't  want 
to  take  any  more, — and  you  '11  get  yourself 
disliked  ! 

Kitty  [laughs].  Very  true ;  it  's  good,  any 
way. 

Little  Jack.  And  thus  you  've  begun  to 
pull  the  wool  over  the  eyes  of  the  poor  Dwarf ! 

Kitty.     Hush ! 

Aldrich  {beckoning  Little  Jack  aside  and  in 
dicating  Miss  Powers  and  Austin].  Listen  to 
them  !  They  are  getting  gay !  And  Adol- 
phus  is  just  as  innocent,  too  !  What  are  we 
going  to  do  ? 


The  Dawn  Tea.  187 

{They  approach  Austin  who  is  seated  on  the 
sofa  next  Miss  Powers  and  who,  by  way  of  a  joke, 
has  innocently  exchanged  cups  with  her.} 

Miss  Powers  \_drinks  from  the  red  cup~\.  Oh, 
that  last  waltz — turn-turn — da-da  [gestures  with 
her  cup~\.  I  wish  we  could  dance  now — ah  me  ! 
Waldteufel's  divine  waltzes  ! 

Austin.  Only  divine  while  they  embodied 
you  !  {Swallows  his  tea  giddily. .] 

Miss  Powers  {swinging  dance  card  in  her 
hand}.  I  could  dance  it  all  over  again — da 
capo. 

Austin.  You  have  danced  your  way  into  my 
heart.  [Sighs •.] 

Miss  Powers.  Then  I  'm  sure  it  's  high  time 
I  've  danced  out  again — for  I  feel  quite  stifled  ! 

Austin.     To  be  sure  I  'm  not  an  omnibus  ! 

Miss  Powers.  No  !  {Laughing^}  You  must  be 
taken  in  small  courses,  a  la  cart  ! 

Little  Jack  {to  AldricJi}.  Yes, — capital  horse 
on  Adolphus,  isn't  it  ? 

Aldrich  {anxiously}.  But  Miss  Powers  must 
never  know  it ! 

Paige  {as  he  swallows  his  tea}.  I  feel  like 
saying  what  the  freshman  who  once  took  din 
ner  with  Prexy  said 


1 88*  Yale  Yarns. 

Miss  Montgomery.     What 's  that  ? 

Paige.  Let  's  have  another  !  [Helps  himself 
from  the  trayJ] 

[A  knock.  Enter  Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery,  natu 
rally  very  cold,  glum,  and  sourJ] 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Nellie !  Are  you 
aware  of  the  hour  ?  What !  Champagne  ? 
[Scowls. ~\  I  hardly  approve  of  this. 

[Honest  John  is  told  to  hide  away  the  bottlesJ] 

Miss  Montgomery  [gayly].  Poor  papa  !  You 
ought  to  be  home  and  in  bed  ! 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Is  this  fitting?  Is 
this  seemly?  Where  is  your  mother? 

Miss  Montgomery.     She  's  asleep ! 

[Austin,  Aldrich,  Harrington,  etc.,  grasp  his 
hand  with  greatest  unction  and  help  him  off 
with  his  overcoat,  for  Miss  Nellie  is  a  very  pretty 
girl.-} 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  I  have  the  carriage 
waiting 

Barrington  [politely  trying  to  entertain  the 
old  gentleman}.  You  are  an  old  grad.,  sir,  are 
you  not?  Of  the  famous  class  of  Umpty 
which  ? 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery  [  a  little  mollijied\ 
Yes.  Umpty-one, — the  greatest  class  that  ever 


The  Dawn  Tea.  1 89 

graduated  at  Yale.  But,  come,  Nellie.  Come, 
at  once ! 

Paige.  But  you  '11  have  a  glass  of  cham 
pagne,  Doctor  ? 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery  [puts  out  his  hand  in 
rebuke].  Certainly  not !  Certainly  not ! 

Barrington.     Won't  you  have  some  tea? 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery  No, — we  can't  wait, 
and  I  don't  like  tea. 

Miss  Swift.  I  'm  sure  mine  was  awfully 
strong.  [Rises.']  But  I  feel  quite, — oh,  much 
better.  Really — quite  giddy. 

Miss  Clara  Powers  {rising  to  go].  I  don't 
feel  a  bit  tired  now 

Austin.  Dear  Miss  Clara — I — must  mention 
to  you  before  we  part, — gi — oh,  gi  me  back 
me  heart !  etc.,  etc. 

Miss  Clara  \yexedly\.  Oh,  take  it!  and  do 
hold  on  to  it, — in  future.  Really,  Mr.  Austin  ! 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery  [solemnly].  The  car 
riage  is  waiting.  Really  it  is  very  late.  Come, 
Nellie- 

Paige  [cordially].  Have  just  one  cup  of  Rus 
sian  tea,  Doctor  ?  [Hands  red  cup  and  saucer^] 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery  [sternly].  I  don't  care 
for  tea. 


190  Yale  Yarns. 

Paige.  But  Really.  Won't  you  try  just  one 
cup? 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Well, — I  will  take 
just  one  \Sips  his  tea  slowly '.]  Where  is  your 
mother,  Nellie  ?  I  have  had  a  distressing  time 
finding  you.  These  gayeties  weren't  known 
in  my  day.  And  they  are  apparently  like 
Heber's  Sabbath — without  end. 

Miss  Montgomery.  Mamma !  !  \No  response.] 
Mamma  !  ! ! 

[She  opens  the  door,  looks  in,  and  then  looks 
back  into  the  room  with  a  face  of  blank  despair. 
The  doctor  drinks  his  tea  at  a  swallow] 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  I  never  cared — er — 
for  Russian  tea.  But  that  is  quite  good — very 
refreshing 

Aldrich.     Have  another,  Doctor? 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  I  don't  mind, — the 
cups  are  not  large.  Please,  not  quite  so  much 
sugar, — only  one  lump,  please.  And  really, 
I  prefer  milk,  if  you  have  it. 

Aldrich.  Oh,  very  good.  ^Prepares  another 
stiff  cup,  with  some  milk,  which  the  doctor  inno 
cently  swallows] 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Well  now,  my  dear. 
Call  your  mother  and  let 's  be  off.  Ahem  ! 


The  Dawn  Tea.  191 

very  good    tea   that — excellent — Very  refresh 
ing — very  invigorating 

Little  Jack  \mischievously\.     Before  we  go, — 

we  ought  to  have  a  song. 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  That  tea  was  very 
warming — very — {Toys  ivit/i  his  spoonJ] 

Little  Jack  [aside].     He  likes  it  ! 

Aldrich.  Give  us  an  old-time  Yale  song, 
Doctor, —  one  of  your  time — 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Oh,  dear  me  ; — I  Ve 
forgotten  all  the  songs  I  ever  knew  in  the  '503. 
Let  me  see — \_Hums  a  few  notes^\ 

Little  Jack  [aside].    This  is  rich  ! 

Miss  Montgomery  [anxiously  to  Jack].  Was 
it  really  tea  papa  drank? 

Little  Jack.     What  does  it  matter? 

Miss  Montgomery.  I  shall  be  very  indignant 
if— 

Little  Jack.  I  assure  you,  solemnly,  it  was 
rushing  good  tea  ! 

[Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery  after  a  little  urging 
sings  Dr.  Holmes'  old  song  in  a  loud  basso,  to  the 
tune  of  Off  the  Blue  Canaries" 


' '  And  who  was  on  the  Catalogue 
When  College  was  begun  ? 


192  Yale  Yarns. 

Two  nephews  of  the  President 

And  the  Professor's  son. 
(They  turned  a  little  Indian  down 

As  brown  as  any  bun.  ) 

Lord  !   how  the  Seniors  knocked  about 

That  freshman  class  of  one  !  " 

[Loud  applause — Mrs.  Montgomery  wakes  up 
and  comes  to  the  door  and  stands  astonished] 

4 '  They  had  not  then  the  dainty  things 

That  Prom,  weeks  now  afford, 
But  succotash  and  hominy 

Were  smoking  on  the  board. 
They  did  not  rattle  round  in  cabs, 

Or  dash  in  long-tailed  blues — 
But  always  on  Commencement  days — 

The  tutors  blacked  their  shoes  !  " 

[Loud  applause  again.] 

Miss  Swift  [behind  her  handkerchief].  How 
very  weird  ! 

Mrs.  Montgomery.  Why,  William  !  You  sing 
ing  !  I  never  heard  you  sing  before. 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Oh,  when  I  'm  at 
Yale,  Eliza,  I  only  feel  as  old  as  when  I  was  a 
student.  Hark  !  There  strikes  the  Chapel  bell. 
I  remember  the  appropriate  lines  of  my  class 
mate  Bradley : 


The  Dawn  Tea.  193 

{Recites  feelingly  amid  deep  silence  when  the 
first  bell  rings.~\ 

"  'T  is  the  hour  for  deep  contrition, 
'T  is  the  hour  for  peaceful  thought, 
'T  is  the  hour  to  win  the  blessing 
In  the  early  stillness  sought. 
Kneeling  in  the  quiet  chamber, 
On  the  deck,  or  on  the  sod, — 
In  the  still  and  early  morning — 
'T  is  the  hour  to  worship  God. 

"  But  don't  stop  to  pray  in  secret, — 
No  time  for  you  to  worship  here, — 
The  hour  approaches, — tempus  fugit, — 
Tear  your  shirt, — or  miss  a  prayer, — 
Don't  stop  to  wash, — don't  stop  to  button, — 
Go  the  ways  your  father  "s  trod, 
Leg  it, — put  it, — rush  it, — streak  it, — 
Run  and  worship  God  ! 

"  On  the  staircase  stamping,  tramping, 
Bounding,  sounding,  crashing  smashing, 
Jumping,  bumping,  dancing,  dashing, 
Jarring,  stubbing  heel  and  toe — 
See  your  classmates  chase  before  you 
Through  the  Chapel  doorway  jam — 
Heavens  and  Earth  ! — the  bell  is  stopping ! 
Now  it  dies  in  silence damn  !   !  " 

\Loud  applause  from  the  men.] 


194  Yale  Yarns. 

Chorus  of  girls.  Oh,  how  shocking  ! — that 
last  line  ! 

Paige.  Here  's  to  the  class  of  Umpty- 
one  ! 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Yes ;  it  numbers 
Jones,  the  famous  poet,  and  Smith,  the  great 
astronomer. 

Harrington  \laughing  aside}.  Never  heard 
of  either  of  them,  did  you,  Jack? 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  Then  there  was  our 
brave  Col.  Jack  Petterson,  who  gave  up  his  life 
for  his  country.  Did  you  ever  hear  the  story  ? 
He  was  suddenly  surrounded  at  the  picket  line 
by  the  enemy,  one  night.  It  was  in  Georgia. 
They  were  making  a  secret  night  attack  on  the 
left  wing  of  Sherman's  army.  A  rebel  officer 
held  a  sword  at  his  breast.  "If  you  make  any 
noise,  you  're  a  dead  man  !  "  he  whispered. 
"  I  '11  run  you  through  the  body  !  "  Col.  Jack 
Petterson  knew  if  he  did  not  give  the  alarm  of 
the  approaching  enemy,  Sherman's  army  might 
be  cut  in  pieces.  It  was  a  question  of  certain 
death  or  the  betrayal  of  ten  thousand  men. 
He  stepped  back  and  shouted  :  "  The  rebels 
are  on  us!"  And  then  fell  dead,  pierced 
through  the  heart.  But  the  alarm  was  given. 


The  2} awn  Tea.  195 

The  army  was  saved.  That  was  one  of  many 
things  Yale  did  in  the  war  for  the  Union ! 

\_A  short  silence.'] 

Little  Jack.  That  's  a  dandy  !  Oh,  I  won 
der  if  it  's  true.  Here  's  to  Col.  Jack  Petterson  ! 

Barrington.  Let  me  fill  your  cup  once  more, 
Doctor  !  [Pours  out  another  cup  fullJ] 

Little  Jack  [chuckling].     Fill  mine,  too  ! 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  No,  we  must  be  go 
ing.  [Drinks  his  tea  quicklyJ]  I  never  seemed 
to  care  for  tea  before  in  my  life.  Come,  my 
dear,  come,  Nellie  !  Come,  all  !  Say  good 
morning  ! 

Mrs.  Montgomery  {greatly  refreshed  by  her 
nap].  I  hope  my  duties  are  now  over  for  the 
week? 

Little  Jack.     Were  they  very  arduous? 

Mrs.  Montgomery.  I  once  took  a  walking 
tour  with  my  husband  in  Switzerland.  .  .  . 

Chorus  of  girls.  Good  night — Great  fun- 
Awful  good  time  !  Don't  feel  sleepy  a  bit. 
Splendid  tea ! 

Miss  Kitty  Nelson.  Never  enjoyed  myself 
so  much  in  my  life  !  But  I  shall  be  very  glad — 
er — to  get  Dick  away  from  you  all.  I  don't 
trust  you.  You  students  are  very  wicked ! 


196  Yale  Yarns. 

Little  Jack.     Wicked  ! ! 

Miss  Kitty.  But  I  must  say— a  dawn  tea 
without, — ahem, — something  wicked,  never  will 
be  a  success  in  the  world  !  Good  morning  ! 

Rev.  Dr.  Montgomery.  I  feel  like  going  home 
and  writing  a  sermon  on  the  influence  of  tea 
upon  the  moral  instincts  !  Good  morning  ! 

\Exeunt  the  doctor,  his  wife,  and  the  girls, 
amid  great  laughter,  while  the  Chapel  bell  rings 
and  the  students  jump  into  their  ulsters  and  are 
off  to  Battell  on  the  run.] 


THE  GREAT  SPRINGFIELD  GAME. 

THE  old  grads.  who  live  in  and  around  New 
York,  and  haunt  the  University  Club,  and  who 
get  the  athletic  fever  in  their  old  bones  once  a 
year,  and  who  always  have  lots  of  advice  on 
tap  but  who  do  pretty  well  (as  well  as  age  will 
permit)  in  supporting  the  Yale  teams  on  their 
annual  appearance,  have  this  story  to  tell  of 
the  great  game  at  Springfield  a  year  ago. 

Every  one  remembers  what  an  exciting  game 
it  was,  and  how  hard  fought  it  was,  and  how 
the  event  hung  in  the  balance  through  the  two 
halves  and  was  only  decided  in  Yale's  favor  by 
a  goal  won  at  the  close  of  the  game.  And 
every  one  remembers,  too,  how  terrific  the  bat 
tle  was,  and  how  clearly  it  demonstrated  that 
full-grown  men  cannot  play  the  so-called  Rugby 
game  without  real  danger  to  life  and  limb. 

A  number  of  these  old  Yale  grads.  had  ar 
ranged,  several  weeks  before,  to  charter  a  draw 
ing-room  car,  and  to  stock  it  well  with  fizz  and 


198  Yale  Yarns. 

a  capital  lunch,  and  they  looked  forward  to  the 
game  with  great  anticipations.  Most  of  them, 
as  was  their  wont,  had  managed  to  get  bets  out 
of  Harvard  grads.  of  fifty  dollars  or  so — enough 
to  pay  expenses  in  case  of  success. 

The  morning  of  the  great  Saturday  came, 
and  the  sun  rose  bright,  and  the  weather  was 
perfect.  The  grads.  sank  into  their  comfort 
able  pivot  chairs  as  the  train  left  the  Grand 
Central  Depot,  and  swung  into  the  tunnel  with 
the  most  agreeable  expectations. 

There  were  several  old  foot-ball  players  in  the 
car.  Old  "  Popper  "  Hardy,  "  Steve  "  Anderson, 
and  "  Billy  "  Simmons.  They  were  the  ex-heroes 
of  hard-fought  games  in  their  day  and  genera 
tion,  and  had  sunk  into  the  innocuous  desue 
tude  of  private  life,  after  their  four  years  of 
public  recognition  and  celebrity,  not  without 
some  real  regret.  But  the  great  game  brought 
most  of  them  out  of  their  holes,  and  at  Spring 
field  you  could  generally  tell  the  old  players  by 
their  extra  official  excitement  and  their  intense, 
feverish  interest  in  every  play  made.  They 
were  "  in  the  game  "  from  start  to  finish. 
There  were  other  ex-backers  of  the  team,  too  ; 
busy  lawyers,  doctors,  business  men,  now,  who 


The  Great  Springfield  Game.       199 

once  went  up  with  the  gang  from  New  Haven, 
and  shouted  themselves  hoarse  with  the  Aris- 
tophanian  cry  of  their  day.  Life  had  been 
gentle  and  easy  with  most  of  them, — they  were 
"  doing  fairly  well,"  and  generally  had  a  little 
spare  cash  to  put  on  the  Yale  team  every 
year. 

Among  these  were  Dr.  Trunnion,  Pete  Jones, 
a  Virginian,  Sam  Callendar,  Charley  Macy, 
Harry  Whalley,  and  some  other  good  fellows. 

They  talked  together  of  old  times  and  the 
glorious  record  of  Yale,  and  what  an  extraordi 
nary  thing  it  was  that  time  and  age  did  not 
seem  to  wither  nor  custom  stale  their  old  en 
thusiasm,  and  how  they  enjoyed  the  foot-ball 
games  now  even  more  than  ever  before,  although 
they  understood  them  less. 

"  Why,"  said  Dr.  Trunnion,  a  fat-faced,  jolly 
old  grad.  of  the  class  of  Umpty-one,  "  I  really 
think  I  could  n't  miss  a  Springfield  game  now 
for  love  or  money.  It  's  got  to  be  an  annual 
thing  with  me.  I  tell  my  wife  that  unless  I  'm 
present  our  boys  would  n't  win.  I  'm  a  sort  of 
mascot,  you  see." 

"  I  sometimes  willingly  let  all  the  ball  games 
and  the  race  go,"  said  Sam  Callendar,  "  but  I 


2OO  Yale  Yarns. 

can't  miss  the  Harvard  game  at  Springfield. 
It 's  the  most  exciting  of  all,  by  all  odds." 

"  Yes, — and  it  's  the  first  big  game  of  the 
year,"  said  Whalley,  "  and  you  see  the  new 
tricks  brought  out, — and  the  field  is  the  best 
in  America, — and, — the  day  is  always  clear, 
and, — I  would  n't  miss  it  for  ducats." 

"  Oh,  no,"  chimed  in  Pete  Jones,  a  splendid 
specimen  of  Virginia  manhood.  "  I  myself 
ought  to  have  gone  on  to  Washington  to-day, 
— may  lose  a  thousand  dollars  by  coming  up, 
— but  I  would  n't  miss  seeing  Harvard  downed 
again  for  all  the  law  business  in  the  country." 

Thereupon,  pour  passer  le  temps,  as  Macy 
suggested,  they  opened  a  bottle. 

Popper  Hardy  joined  them,  and  roused  the 
enthusiasm  for  their  Alma  Mater  to  almost 
a  fighting  pitch  by  describing  one  of  the  old- 
time  hard-fought  foot-ball  games  down  at  the 
old  polo  grounds  on  One  Hundred  and  Tenth 
street,  in  New  York. 

"  There  's  one  thing,"  said  Dr.  Trunnion,  with 
a  sagacious  shake  of  his  wise  old  head,  "  they 
would  n't  do  so  well  if  it  were  not  for  us  old 
grads.  We  follow  up  the  games,  and  keep  them 
at  it  year  to  year," 


The  Great  Springfield  Game.      201 

Then  they  drank  toasts  to  the  old  grads.  and 
to  Yale,  and  to  the  success  of  the  blue. 

As  the  train  swung  along  past  Stamford  a 
"  little  game  "  was  suggested  to  fill  up  the  time, 
and  they  went  into  the  smoking  compartment, 
and  the  .good-natured  colored  porter  set  up  a 
table. 

They  used  matches  for  chips,  and  presently 
the  little  game  began  to  grow  interesting. 
Every  one  was  smoking  ;  every  one  had  his  hat 
on  the  back  of  his  head  ;  every  one  was  silent. 
Dr.  Trunnion  was  doing  the  winning  and  seemed 
to  have  a  comfortable  monopoly  of  the  luck. 

"  Poker  is  a  great  game,  if  played  scientifi 
cally,"  he  frequently  remarked. 

At  New  Haven  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
demonstration  going  on  at  the  station  and  a 
crowd  of  noisy  students  were  rah,  rah-ing  to 
considerable  extent.  There  was  nearly  thirty 
dollars  in  the  jack-pot,  and  Callendar  had 
opened  it  with  a  pair  of  queens. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  what  is  all  this  fuss 
about  here  at  New  Haven  ? "  asked  Macy. 
"  Close  that  window,  won't  you,  Doctor?" 

The  window  was  promptly  closed  and  the 
game  went  on. 


202  Yale  Yarns. 

They  reached  Springfield  in  due  time  and, 
of  course,  every  one  else  in  the  car  got  out. 
The  poker  players,  however,  were  hitting  the 
game  up  at  that  time  and  had  put  down  nearly 
a  bottle  of  fizz  apiece. 

The  doctor  had  started  in  to  lose  the  pile 
he  had  accumulated  when  the  train  was  at  New 
Haven,  and  Macy  was  winning  now  in  a  canter. 
Callendar  was  borrowing  chips.  Pete  Jones  was 
doing  a  moderate  amount  of  bluffing  and  hold 
ing  his  pile  "  stiddy."  Whalley  was  very  silent, 
but  was  slightly  ahead  of  the  game.  The  "  spe 
cial  "  train  was  side-tracked  in  the  railroad  freight 
yard  at  Springfield,  ready  to  be  started  back 
after  the  foot-ball  game  was  over. 

All  the  five  grads.  were  old  poker  players 
but  the  matches  bothered  them  a  good  deal 
in  counting,  and  so  the  porter  was  given  five 
dollars  out  of  the  pot,  and  sent  out  to  scour 
the  city  of  Springfield  for  a  stack  of  ivories. 

He  came  back  after  awhile,  with  a  broad  grin 
on  his  comely  black  face. 

"  Youse  gents  won't  see  no  foot-ball  game, 
ef  you  don't  hurry  along,"  he  said.  "  It 's 
pretty  much  after  two." 

But    they    told   him  they  'd  only  play    one 


77/6?  Great  Springfield  Game.      203 

hand  around  and  get  to  Hampden  Park  before 
the  players  got  fairly  warmed  up. 

The  new  chips  enlivened  the  game,  and  the 
doctor  secretly  hoped,  would  change  the  luck 
also. 

They  played  another  hand,  and  the  doctor 
won  and  felt  greatly  comforted. 

Then  they  decided  they  'd  have  a  jack-pot, 
and  get  out.  It  was  half-past  two. 

The  jack-pot  went  on  accumulating,  as  jack 
pots  have  a  little  way  of  doing,  and  it  took 
some  time  before  Whalley  opened  it  with  a 
pair  of  aces. 

They  all  came  in.  Whalley  drew  three,  the 
doctor  drew  three.  Pete  stood  pat  and  Callen- 
dar  and  Macy  two  each,  and  the  betting  and 
and  bluffing  began.  All  seemed  to  feel  very 
earnestly,  too,  that  they  had  extraordinarily 
goods  hands.  "  Raise  it  five,"  or  "  Raise  it  ten," 
were  the  only  expressions  used  for  some  time. 
Finally  Pete  counted  out  all  the  chips  he  had 
on  the  table, — about  fifty-five  dollars'  worth, — 
and  it  came  to  be  a  question  of  staying  in  or 
going  out  and  losing  what  each  had  put  in. 
Whalley  went  down  in  his  pockets  and 
"  coughed  up,"  as  he  said,  enough  to  call. 


204  Yale  Yarns. 

The  doctor  came  in  and  saw  them.  Macy 
went  out  in  disgust,  and  on  showing  up,  it  was 
found  that  Pete  held  three  nines  and  scooped 
the  pot. 

They  could  n't  let  Pete  win  all  the  cash 
around  the  table  and  they  concluded  to  have 
one  more  jack  and  quit. 

After  considerable  delay, — the  cards  were 
not  running  high, — Pete  dealt  a  pair  of  aces  to 
Macy  and  he  opened  at  twenty-five.  Every  one 
came  in  and  drew  cards  and  the  pot  went  to 
the  doctor  on  a  full  hand,  jacks  and  threes. 
He  netted  nearly  two  hundred  dollars. 

It  was  then  nearly  three,  and  Macy  said  as  it 
was  hardly  worth  while  to  try  and  see  the  end 
of  the  first  half,  they  'd  have  plenty  of  time  for 
another  jack-pot.  So  they  played  another,  as 
men  will  do,  fascinated  by  the  enticing  game, 
and  then  another  and  another  until  it  began  to 
grow  dark. 

The  luck  had  varied  a  good  deal  and  Macy 
was  now  ahead  and  only  Whalley  was  "  out  " 
to  any  very  great  extent.  As  Whalley  was  in 
excellent  circumstances  and  had  recently  made 
a  heavy  fee  in  a  corporation  case,  he  was  in  no 
hurry  to  stop,  feeling  the  old  gambler's  fever 


The  Great  Springfield  Game.      205 

to  get  even  in  the  way  he  'd  got  "  out."  The 
game  went  on  steadily  and  presently  they  be 
gan  to  hear  excited  voices  outside  the  car. 
Then  some  one  burst  in  on  them  and  shouted  : 

"  By  Jove  !  I  '11  be  d d  !  You  're  a  nice 

set  of  Yale  men,  you  are  !  " 

Keep  quiet,  won't  you  ? "  said  the  doctor, 
angrily. 

"  Don't  you  care  to  hear  who  's  won  ?  "  asked 
the  new-comer. 

"  I  '11  open  it  with  a  pair  of  jacks,"  said  Cal- 
lendar,  with  the  monotonous  voice  of  the  steady 
player. 

"  You  'd  sit  here, — you  five, — and  see  your 
old  college  beaten  twenty  to  nothing! — " 
groaned  the  new-comer,  a  more  recent  grad. 
than  they.  "  You  're  a  nice  set,  you  are !  " 
and  he  left  disgusted. 

"  Beaten  ?"  said  Pete.  "  Glad  we  weren't 
there !  "  and  they  all  laughed. 

"  Raise  you  ten,"  said  Whalley. 

"  See  it, — and  raise  five,"  said  Pete. 

And  so  the  game  went  on. 

Then  more  got  on  the  car,  shouting,  singing, 
and  happy  with  victory. 

"  Gad  ! — you  fellows  have  got  back  to  your 


2o6  Yale  Yarns. 

game  here  mighty  quick  !  "  said  one,  as  he  lit 
a  cigar.  "  Was  n't  it  grand  to  have  made  that 
last  goal  !  " 

"Ante  up,  Pete  !  "  called  Whalley,  who  had 
begun  to  win  again. 

"  Yale,  Yale  !     Rah  !   Rah  !  Rah  !  " 

And  then  the  crowd  surged  in  and  broke  up 
the  game.  Men  were  laughing  and  crying. 
Men  and  girls  waving  blue  flags  got  in  the 
wrong  car, — it  did  n't  matter, — Yale  had  won  ! 
Every  one  wanted  some  fizz  at  once,  to  drink 
to  Yale,  Yale,  Yale — forever  !  And  the  train 
started,  and  there  was  nothing  but  noise  and 
enthusiasm  henceforth  all  the  way  to  New 
York. 

Pete,  turning  to  Callendar,  said,  laughing, 

"  Say,  Cal,  this  yere  foot-ball  fever  is  a  d d 

nuisance,  is  n't  it?"  \He  was  in  a  cool  thou 
sand^} 

"  No,"  said  Callendar,  ruefully  \_Jie  was  out 
about  one  hundred  and  ninety  dollars}.  "  I 

think  we  have  been  a  set  of  d d  fools, 

Pete." 

Whalley,  the  "  Dock,"  and  Macy  each  swore 
it  was  the  last  game  of  poker  they  'd  play  for  a 
week  of  Sundays. 


The  Great  Springfield  Game.       207 

Up  at  one  end  of  the  car,  Judge  Holler  of 
'52,  was  up  on  a  chair  for  a  speech,  and  there 
was  silence. 

"  All  credit  to  our  brave  eleven  who  won  us 
the  game,"  he  cried.  "  But  remember  that  we 
old  grads.  had  something  to  do  with  it.  It  was 
our  enthusiasm,  our  money,  our  backing  that 
helped  to  win  that  terrible  game.  It  was  be 
cause  we  men  of  New  York  put  aside  our  busi 
ness,  and  came  up  here  to  Springfield  to  cheer 
on  our  boys,  ["  Hear !  Hear!"  shouted  Pete 

Jones] that  helped  to  win  !  "  and  so  forth, 

and  so  forth,  and  there  was  more  rah,  rah-ing 
and  more  popping  of  corks.  No  one  shouted 
louder  or  applauded  harder  than  the  poker 
fiends.  In  the  excitement  of  victory  they  es 
caped  the  penalty  of  their  misdeeds. 

And  so  the  poker  enthusiasts  each  agreed  to 
keep  the  great  Springfield  game  very  quiet, 
and  they  hoped  nothing  would  be  said  about 
it.  But  somehow  it  has  all  leaked  out,  and 
they  say  they  gave  a  dinner  to  the  eleven  after 
the  Princeton  game,  at  the  club,  by  way  of 
satisfying  their  reproving  consciences. 


IN  THE  TOILS  OF  THE  ENEMY. 

"  LITTLE  JACK  "  HORNER  had  been  on  to 
Cambridge  over  Sunday,  visiting  his  old  An- 
dover  chum,  and  a  number  of  his  friends  gath 
ered  in  his  room  in  Lawrance  the  night  he 
arrived,  to  hear  the.  latest  news  of  the  Harvard 
nine  and  crew. 

There  was  a  Freshman  present,  a  brother  of 
Little  Jack's  chum,  Keith,  and  the  little  chap 
enlarged  some  of  his  story  probably,  to  fit 
young  Keith's  youthful  imagination. 

"  You  know  they  've  changed  the  Latin 
motto  on  their  University  seal  now  to  an  English 
one,"  he  said  gravely.  "  It  used  to  be  '  Christo 
et  Ecclesice  Veritas] — a  very  pretty  motto.  It 
is  now  in  English,  '  To  h — 1  with  Yale !  ' 

The  Freshman  grinned,  but  was  silent. 

"And  I  found  out  how  they  have  been  win 
ning  the  annual  debate  right  along,  too." 

"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  They  have  rung  in  professionals  on  us." 
208 


Li  the  Toils  of  tJie  Enemy.          209 

"  Oh,— come  off !  " 

"  Fact,  '  I  assure  you,'  as  they  say  on  the 
stage.  They  have  raised  a  fund  of  ten  thousand 
dollars  and  have  hunted  up  professional  de 
baters;  two  of  them  are  distinguished  ex-prize 
fighters, — and  they  are  taking  a  course  in  the 
Harvard  Dental  School.  Oh,  it  's  all  wrong, — 
and  should  be  stopped.  But  of  course,  '  any 
thing  to  beat  Yale/  They  have  men  out  all 
through  the  West  hunting  up  new  debaters, — 
and  they  say  up  there  now,  that  their  best 
men  don't  care  to  go  in  for  athletics, — and  that 
chess  and  debating  are  intellectual  pursuits, 
and  that  Yale  is  way  behind  the  times.  Gad  ! 
I  don't  know  but  they  are  right.  But  we  Ve 
got  to  win  a  debate  soon,  or  something  will  hap 
pen The  talkers  are  all  tending  to  Harvard 

now  as  it  is.  They  can  out-talk  us  two  to  one  !  " 

"  How  about  the  crew  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  crew — well,  the  word  was  passed 
around,  I  suppose,  that  I  was  on  to  get  a  line 
on  them,  and  so  they  put  up  a  job.  As  an  ex- 
cox,  of  a  winning  Yale  eight,  they  treated  me 
very  white,  and  took  me  all  over  the  boat-house, 
and  showed  me  everything.  They  are  a  smooth 
set  of  men,  this  year's  crew,  and  know  their 


2 1  o  Yale  Yarns. 

business.  It  was  their  hour  of  practice,  so  they 
got  into  their  boat  and  rowed  up  the  river, 
then  turned  and  went  down,  very  fast." 

"  Well,  how  was  it  ?  " 

Little  Jack  began  to  laugh.  "  I  never  saw 
anything  quite  like  it.  Every  man  rowed  a 
stroke  of  his  own.  Every  one  was  pulling  out 
of  the  boat,  and  the  crew  was  made  up  of  the 
queerest  assorted  sizes  you  ever  saw.  Right  in 
the  waist  they  had  a  man  not  much  over  five 
feet  high,  and  next  to  him  was  a  seven-footer, 
(number  five).  Bow  was  too  fat  for  a  boat,  in 
my  judgment;  he  must  have  weighed  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  pounds.  Every  one  was  serious 
about  it,— but  if  that  was  the  H.  U.  'Varsity 
crew,  why 

"It  was  a  fake  crew,  Jack." 

"  Perhaps  it  was, — but  it  was  all  I  could  do 
to  keep  from  laughing.  They  politely  asked 

me  to  criticize  the  crew.  But  it  was  so  d d 

bad  I  could  n't.  Then  they  got  me  to  put  on 
a  sweater  and  got  me  out  to  cox  a  scrub  crew, 
— and  they  splashed  me  so  much,  I  feel  wet  yet ! 
Then  we  all  went  over  to  the  Pore.  Club  and 
had  unlimited  fizz,  and  I  sang  a  song  by  re 
quest,  and  they  got  me  to  telling  yarns,  and 


Li  the  Toils  of  tlie  Enemy.          2 1 1 

one  of  the  chappies  called  on  me  for  my  Great 
American  Pie  Story  and  I  gave  'em  that  and 
told  them  how  I  was  run  over  by  a  funeral  in 
Philadelphia,  and  then,  midst  loud  and  contin 
ued  applause,  I  gave  them  this.  It  happened 
in  New  London  last  year  and  I  never  told  it  to 
a  soul  before,  but  as  it  was  a  good  horse  on  me, 
I  told  it  then  to  the  Harvards — and  you  fel 
lows  shall  have  it  too. 

"  You  see  I  knew  some  of  those  dear  Harvard 
boys  almost  as  well  as  I  know  you  and  Bob. 
Fales  and  Jack  Rattleton  and  Dick  Eaton  and 
Holworthy  and  Stoughton  were  all  Andover 
men,  and  when  I  took  my  aunt  and  sister  to 
the  Pequot,  I  found  the  gang  all  there,  but 
without  a  cent  for  betting  purposes,  in  the 
usual  Harvard  style.  Some  had  sailed  down 
in  yachts,  some  had  cat-boats,  and  the  night 
before  the  race,  they  celebrated  a  good  deal,  in 
the  usual  Harvard  way. 

"  They  helped  smash  in  the  bar  and  then 
undertook  to  play  horse  with  me  and  tossed 
me  around  a  bit,  on  the  lawn  in  front  of  the 
Pequot,  and  they  got  me  to  sing,  and  we  all 
sang,  and  we  all  went  to  bed  pretty  well  sprung 
that  night,  to  my  deep  regret. 


212  Yale  Yarns. 

"  The  hotel  was  crowded,  and  my  aunt  and 
sister  had  a  room  just  opposite  to  mine  on  the 
top  floor.  Some  of  the  Harvard  men  had  a 
room  next  to  mine  and  I  foolishly  unbolted  the 
door  between.  Well,  there  was  more  horse 
play  and  foolishness  up  to  about  three  o'clock 
A.M.  and  then  things  quieted  down,  and  when 
I  woke  up  it  was  broad  daylight  and  I  was 
utterly  alone. 

"  The  race  was  to  be  at  eleven  o'clock.  I 
jumped  out  of  bed  and  looked  at  my  watch  on 
the  bureau, — it  was  nearly  ten  !  I  felt  rather 
seedy  and  stumbled  about  looking  for  my 
clothes, — Gad  !  my  valise  and  everything  was 
gone  !  I  rang  the  bell,  but  in  the  excitement 
downstairs,  I  suppose,  no  one  answered  it.  I 
looked  in  the  next  room.  I  looked  out  in  the 
hall, — there  was  n't  a  soul  in  sight.  My  aunt 
and  sister  were  not  in  their  room.  (I  supposed 
they  would  give  me  an  awful  lecture  when  I 
saw  them.)  I  opened  the  window  and  looked 
out.  Crowds  of  people  were  walking  toward 
the  wharf  to  take  the  boat  to  the  race. 

"  What  was  I  to  do?  Those  Harvard  friends 
of  mine  thought  it  a  good  joke  on  me,  I  sup 
pose,  to  steal  my  clothes  and  take  themselves 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          2  \  3 

off  to  the  race  without  waking  me  up.  I  tried 
to  call  a  chambermaid,  but  there  was  n't  one  in 
sight, — and  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have 
done  in  my  anguish,  when,  thank  the  Lord,  I 
heard  a  tap  at  my  door,  and  went  to  it 

"  '  Will,  do  hurry  !  '  It  was  my  sister's  voice. 
*  Aunt  won't  go  to  the  race, — please  hurry ! 
We  '11  have  to  go  without  her.' 

"  '  They  Ve  stolen  all  my  clothes,  Molly,— 
those  Harvard  fellows ' 

"  '  Have  n't  you  anything ?  '  she  asked 

through  the  keyhole. 

"  '  Not  a  thing,  dear.  I  'm  posing  in  the  "  al 
together  "  ! ' 

"' Oh,  Will!  it's  a  just  punishment  to  you 
after  last  night ! — The  noise  was  dreadful !  ' 

"  '  Perhaps  it  is,'  I  said,  '  But  don't  preach 
now,  sister  dear — get  me  something  to  put  on. 
I  want  to  see  the  race 

"  *  I  have  n't  anything, — except  some  dresses, 
— and  one  of  Aunt's.' 

"  '  Get  me  Aunt  Sarah's  black  silk,'  I  cried, 
'  I  have  n't  seen  "  Charlie's  Aunt  "  for  nothing ! 
I  '11  wear  anything  rather  than  not  see  the  race  ! 
and  it  's  half  past  ten  nearly  now.' 

"  Well,  Molly  had  seen  '  Charlie's  Aunt '  too, 


2 1 4  Yale  Yarns. 

and  she  laughed  and  caught  on  to  the  idea  in 
great  shape.  She  flung  me  my  aunt's  dress 
and  a  lace  cap  and  bonnet.  I  put  'em  on  over 
my  pajams,  and  in  five  minutes  I  looked  very 
much  like  an  old  lady,  out  for  the  sights.  My 
face  was  pale  and  slightly  yellow  after  the 
previous  night's  entertainment,  and  I  worked 
burnt  match  lines  around  my  eyes  in  good  old 
Psi  U.  theatrical  style,  and  then  in  case  of 
emergency,  I  had  a  veil. 

"  Molly  was  quick-witted  and  got  me  out  of 
the  Pequot  the  back  way,  and  we  hurried  down 
to  the  wharf  without  any  one  suspecting  me. 
But  there,  alas,  ( how  I  swore  to  myself ! )  we 
found  the  boat  had  gone  !  But,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  one  of  Molly's  school  friends,  with  a 
lot  of  girls  and  Harvard  men,  whom  we  did  n't 
know,  were  going  to  see  the  race  on  a  private 
steam  yacht,  and  were  waiting  for  their  chap 
erons  to  come  along  from  the  hotel.  Molly 
talked  with  her  friend,  and  introduced  me.  I 
played  my  part  of  '  Charlie's  Aunt  '  in  great 
shape,  and  they  asked  me  if  I  would  be  willing 
to  chaperon  the  crowd  ?  Well,  /  was  willing, 
you  can  better  believe  !  for  it  was  late  and  I 
wanted  to  see  the  race  the  worst  way. 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          2  \  5 

"The  Harvard  men  got  us  all  in  their  launch 
as  quickly  as  possible,  and,  by  Jupiter  Omnes  ! 
we  got  aboard  the  yacht  and  crowded  on  all 
steam  and  started  off  for  New  London  just  as 
the  real  chaperons, — the  mothers  of  two  of 
the  lads, — put  in  an  appearance  on  the  Pequot 
wharf !  They  waved  and  waved  and  shouted, 
but  not  a  whit  did  we  care.  We  weren't  going 
to  put  back.  Young  Graham  of  Harvard 
shouted  *  Very  sorry.  Take  the  trolley  !  '  and 
off  we  sped  at  a  twenty-mile  gait  for  up  the 
river.  I  could  n't  ask  for  any  better  treatment 
than  I  received,  and  my  sister  Molly  stuck 
close  to  me  to  help  me  out  in  case  I  got  into 
any  trouble.  They  gave  me  the  most  comfor 
table  seat  in  the  boat  under  an  awning  in  the 
stern,  and  when  I  said  the  water  was  apt  to 
make  me  ill,  and  asked  for  clam  broth  (There 
is  nothing  like  clam  broth  after  a  bat,  boys), 
the  steward  brought  me  some  of  the  best  I 
ever  tasted.  It  went  to  the  right  spot,  I  can 
tell  you !  And  on  that  I  ate  a  few  crackers 
and  toyed  with  some  pate  de  fois  gras,  and  the 
sea  air  and  all  revived  my  drooping  spirits  in 
great  shape. 

"  *  Was  n't  it  lucky  Aunt  Sarah  had  a  head- 


2  1 6  Yale  Yarns. 

ache  and  could  n't  go  ! '  whispered  Molly,  as  we 
sped  along  past  Fort  Hale. 

" '  Yes,  indeed,  and  was  n't  it  lucky  to  get  on 
this  yacht?  ' 

"  Molly  presented  all  the  girls  one  by  one. 
They  were  all  good  enough  looking,  were  it  not 
for  the  unpleasantly  trying  colored  ribbons 
they  wore.  Several  of  them  kissed  me.  Gad  ! 
Just  what  they  did  to  '  Charlie's  Aunt '  !  I  said 
to  myself.  But  I  did  n't  enjoy  it  at  all,  because 
I  was  *  all  of  a  tremmer,'  as  Caddy  Wilson  says, 
lest  they  should  get  on  to  my  fake  disguise.  I 
pretended  to  be  a  little  seasick,  and  retired  to 
the  cabin,  and  lay  down  and  got  away  from  them, 
and  every  one  went  up  forward  on  the  bow. 

"  '  Steward,'  I  said,  '  I  feel  the  need  of  a  little 
trifle  of  stimulant.' 

"  *  Brandy,  ma'am  ?  '  he  asked  respectfully. 

"  '  N-no,  make  me  a  Manhattan  cocktail/ 

"  '  Oh,  very  well,  ma'am,'  he  said  rather  sur 
prised. 

"  He  was  more  surprised  when  I  asked  him 
for  a  second  ;  but  he  did  n't  peep  ! 

"  Then  Molly  came  down  and  said,  '  Aunt, 
dear,  we  are  going  under  the  bridge  now,  won't 
you  come  out  on  deck  ?  ' 


In  the  Toils  of  tJie  Enemy.          2 1  7 

"  '  I  'm  afraid  of  being  indecorous,'  I  said,  and 
she  frowned  at  me. 

" '  I  shall  be  delighted,  my  dear,'  I  said,  and 
she  whispered,  *  Now,  Will,  1/0  be  careful !  Don't 
begin  to  shout  rah,  rah,  rah,  when  you  catch 
sight  of  the  crew,  and  don't  offer  to  bet.' 

'* '  Oh,  trust  me,'  I  laughed.  *  I  Ve  seen 
"  Charlie's  Aunt  "  three  times,  and  have  acted  on 
the  Psi  U.  stage  as  the  ingenue  from  Squash- 
town.  Just  get  on  to  my  curves  !  ' 

"  Molly  nearly  had  a  fit  ! 

"  Well,  I  went  out  on  deck,  and  they  placed 
my  chair  in  the  bow,  in  the  best  possible  place 
to  see,  and  put  a  footstool  under  my  feet.  Fel 
lows,  I  tried  my  best  to  be  calm  and  easy,  but 
the  air,  and  the  sight  of  the  yachts,  and  the 
clam-broth,  and  the  cocktails, — and  the  thunder 
ing  excitement  I  always  felt,  and  always  shall 
feel,  as  a  patriotic  son  of  Eli,  just  before  a  race 
at  New  London — What  chap  can  help  giving  a 
yell  as  the  'Varsity  slips  out  across  the  river 
with  that  perfect,  smooth,  equal,  beautiful 
stroke?  and  I  know,  for  I've  been  there,  they 
put  on  a  little  extra  finish, — the  pharisees, 
as  they  came  into  the  line,—  — just  as  a  thor 
oughbred  race-horse  will  prance  and  dance, 


2  1 8  Yale  Yarns. 

and  feel  the  keen  delight  of  it  all,  as  he  goes  to 
the  post.  And  there,  boys,  were  four  of  my  old 
crew — the  Dwarf, — how  his  muscles  shone  that 
day ! — Oh,  the  Dwarf  is  a  whole  crew  just  in 
himself:  handsome  as  a  picture,  strong  as  an 
ox,  calm  and  confident  as — as  a  New  Haven 
oyster !  You  cant  lose  with  the  Dwarf  in  the 
boat.  And — for  me  to  sit  there  in  my  aunt's 
dress  and  see  him,  and  Sawyer,  and  Bliss,  and 
Parrish, — four  of  my  old  crew,  and  not  yell ! — 
and  not  get  up  and  let  'em  know  their  old  cox', 
Little  Jack,  was  there  with  his  eye  on  'em  ! 
and  with  'em  just  the  same  as  if  he  was  in  the 
boat,  and  rooting  for  'em — well,  it  was  mad 
ness  !  Boys,  the  tears  rolled  down  my  cheeks, 
I  was  so  excited,  and  I  had  to  suppress  it,  and 
my  sister  said  it  was  the  bright  sunlight  and 
made  me  put  up  a  parasol !  And  when  she  gave 
it  to  me  she  was  trembling  like  a  leaf. 

"  And  then  out  came  Harvard  in  very  good 
style,  too,  and  lined  up  alongside,  and  there  was 

but  a  little  delay,  and  then they  were  off ! 

Harvard  jumped  away  with  the  lead,  but  it 
did  n't  last  long,  and  Yale  slowly  walked  up. 
Well,  when  Yale  forged  a  foot  or  two  ahead, 
I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  I  jumped  up  on 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          2  \  9 

my  chair  and  yelled,  '  Yale,— Yale, — Yale, — 
Brekity  Kex, — coax,  coax, — got  'em  again- 
got  'em  again  !  Paraboloo, — Ya-ale  !  ! '  Then 
I  sat  down  in  a  hurry,  and  you  ought  to  have 
seen  my  Harvard  friends  !  You  know  what  a 
voice  I  Ve  got,  developed  by  coaching, — it 
reached  across  the  river,  and  the  Dwarf  heard 
it  and  I  could  see  his  old  jaws  grin  with  delight, 
and  you  chaps  on  the  '  moving  grand  stand  ' 
heard  it  and  yelled  back,  and  things  became 
quiet  again  until  the  last  quarter  mile,  for  Yale 
was  gaining  every  stroke,  and  it  was  another 
dead  cinch  ! 

"  But  consternation  reigned  on  our  yacht ! 
Not  only  on  account  of  the  race,  but  on  ac 
count  of  me.  My  sister  said  it  was  only  a  '  par 
oxysm,' — whatever  that  was — and  she  pinched 
my  arm,  pretending  to  soothe  me,  until  I  nearly 
yelled  again  !  She  pulled  the  shawl  close 
around  my  neck,  and  stuck  a  hat-pin  into  me, 
and  with  it  all  I  could  see  she  was  half  fright 
ened,  half  convulsed  with  laughter. 

"'Your  aunt  seems  quite  disposed  to  give 
vent  to  her  enthusiasm,'  said  Paton,  the  owner 
of  the  yacht,  one  of  the  Harvard  men,  to  my 
sister.  '  But  I  hope  you  will  persuade  her — as 


22O  Yale  Yarns. 

this  is  a  Harvard  yacht  we  would  prefer  not 
to  encourage  Yale.' 

"  '  She  has  a  nephew  there  now  at  Yale,'  said 
Molly.  '  He  was  coxswain  of  the  crew  two 
years  ago.  I  suppose  she  feels  unusual  inter 
est.'  And  Molly  bit  her  lip. 

"  '  I  think  I  never  heard  such  a  shrill  cry,' 
said  another  Harvard  man  ;  '  I  fancy  your  aunt 
must  have  been  in  great  pain.' 

"  '  She  has  not  been  well  for  a  long  time/ 
said  my  sister,  sadly. 

"  '  Nothing  serious  ?  '  asked  another  Harvard 
man. 

"  '  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  were  obliged, — 
er — it  is  very  embarrassing a  private  asy 
lum,  you  know.' 

"  *  Oh,  I  'm  very  sorry.' 

"  Meanwhile  I  was  rocking  to  and  fro  in  my 
chair,  my  head  bent  down  mostly  to  my  knees 
with  laughing,  and  pleased  to  death  to  see 
the  crew  half  a  mile  or  so  in  advance.  I  was 
meditating,  too,  on  the  character  of  my  aunt, 
whether,  being  a  confessed  ex-lunatic,  it  would 
not  be  exactly  becoming  in  me  to  give  vent  to 
a  little  more  encouragement  to  the  crew.  On 
the  whole,  however,  I  realized  that  they  were 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          221 

so  far  in  advance  that  it  could  really  make  no 
difference,  and  subsided  and  watched  the  pro 
ceedings  in  silence. 

"  Our  yacht,  the  Fairy,  steamed  along  behind 
the  crowded  press  boat  and  the  referees'  boat, 
and  the  yachts  were  booming  their  cannon,  and 
Yale  blue  was  everywhere,  and  every  one  aboard 
the  Fairy,  except  my  sister,  who  kept  silent, — 
was  saying,  *  This  is  too  monotonous ! '  And 
then  we  came  up  alongside  of  our  crew,  who 
were  resting  on  their  oars,  just  under  the  great 
railroad  bridge,  and  a  Harvard  man  leaned 
down  and  made  my  blood  run  cold  by  calmly 
whispering  in  my  ear,  *  Yell  all  you  want  to, 
Eli,  we  Ve  a  plan  to  "  do  "  you  up  later,  and  you 
may  as  well  have  all  the  fun  you  can  out  of  it 
now  ! ' 

"  So  I  thanked  him,  and  stood  up,  and 
yelled  !  I  gave  'em  the  rebel  yell,  '  \Vhah-o-o-o- 
Yale ! '  three  times,  and  I  saw  old  Dwarf  laugh 
with  the  rest  of  the  crew,  and  the  Harvard  men 
who  were  on  to  me,  looked  solemn  but  pre 
tended  that  they  thought  it  all  right — You  see 
of  course  they  did  n't  want  their  girls  to  know." 

"  Going  back  down  the  harbor-to  the  Pequot, 
they  set  up  a  handsome  lunch  on  board,  and 


222  Yale  Yarns. 

as  I  knew  the  jig  was  up  and  something  bad 
was  in  store  for  me  [/  didn't  tell  my  sister  this^\ 
I  allowed  myself  plenty  of  fizz,  to  quiet  my 
nerves.  Then  you  know  my  failing  ; — I  began 
to  get  garrulous  and  talkative,  and  talked  out 
everything  I  had  in  my  head,  and  coming  from 
a  queer  old  lady,  it  must  have  seemed  ridicu 
lous  to  those  girls.  I  heard  one  of  them, — a 
Boston  beaut — confide  in  a  friend  that  she 
had  never  seen  such  a  '  crazy  old  fright '  in 
her  life.  Here  's  a  specimen  of  a  few  of  the 
silly  things  I  remember  I  said  in  my  character 
of  chaperon  ! 

"  'Just  leave  me  enough  fizz,  girls,  and  you 
can  have  just  as  good  a  time  as  you  want.  You 
can't  shock  me  with  anything  you  do.' 

"You  ought  to  have  seen  the  indignation 
with  which  the  Boston  girl  drew  herself  up 
after  that ! 

"  *  I  am  sure  she  is  nothing  but  a  disgusting, 
vulgar  creature,'  I  heard  her  say. 

"  '  The  Yale  crew  knew  how  to  row  and  you 
did  n't,'  I  said  to  a  Harvard  man.  '  And  the 
reason  is  they  never  use  foreign  champageny 
water.' 

"  The  Harvard  man  expressed  polite  acquies- 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          223 

cence,  and  turned  away.  So  I  tried  to  talk  to 
the  girls. 

"  '  Girls/  I  said,  *  when  I  was  at  Vassar,  I 
was  on  the  crew, — and  we  had  a  hummer.  I 
think  we  made  a  mile  in  ten  minutes.  We  used 
to  race  the  Hudson  River  boats.  Lots  of  fun  ! ' 

4<  The  girls  looked  at  me  more  in  sorrow  than 
in  anger.  They  believed  I  was  deranged  ! 

"  When  they  got  back  to  the  Pequot,  as  I 
was  the  last  one  to  step  into  the  launch,  to  go 
ashore, — Gad  !  a  Harvard  man  quietly  gave  me 
a  sudden  jerk,  and  over  I  went,  head  first  into 
the  water.  My  sister  gave  a  scream,  but  they 
pretended  they  did  n't  notice  anything,  and  the 
naphtha  launch  sputtered  off  ashore  leaving  me 
to  clamber  up  the  shiny  white  sides  of  the 
Fairy,  swim  ashore,  or  go  down  and  see  the 
oysters  below.  The  sailors  aboard  the  yacht 
looked  over  the  side  and  grinned  at  me.  In 
deed,  I  must  have  been  a  healthy  looking  ob 
ject  !  My  honnet  came  off  in  the  water  and, 
with  a  curse  at  them  for  not  throwing  me  a 
rope,  off  I  started  for  shore,  and  it  happened 
the  nearest  shore  was  the  Fort  Griswold  or 
Eastern  side.  But  at  the  moment  I  did  n't 
care  much  what  shore  it  was,  provided  it  was 


224  Yale  Yarns. 

shore.  I  was  used  to  the  water,  but  it  was 
deuced  cold  out  there  at  the  mouth  of  the 
harbor,  and  the  waves  were  pretty  high,  too.  I 
was  glad  enough  to  hear  a  familiar  voice  call 
out  to  me,  after  a  few  minutes  swim,  '  Hello, 
Jack,  is  that  you  ? '  It  was  Boots  Paige  and  a 
lot  of  people  on  the  Osprey,  and  they  picked 
me  up. 

"  They  said.  '  Well,  where  in  thunder  did 
you  come  from  ?  And  what  in  creation  are 
you  doing  in  that  rig  ?  ' 

"  I  told  them  I  was  out  for  a  swim  in  a  hired 
bathing  suit,  and — you  'd  laugh — they  thought 
it  was  all  right!  You  see,  when  my  aunt's 
dress  got  soaked  in  the  water,  it  looked  very 
much  like  an  old  bathing  dress,  and  every  one 
was  so  excited  over  the  race  it  made  little 
difference. 

"  Well,  they  put  me  ashore  at  the  Pequot 
and  I  sneaked  around  and  got  in  through  the 
back  of  the  hotel  and  slipped  up  to  my  room 
and  got  into  bed,  for  I  did  n't  know  exactly 
what  else  to  do — and  waited  for  something  to 
happen ! 

"  Presently,  I  heard  a  thundering  knocking 
and  I  threw  my  wet  dress  under  the  bed  and 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          225 

pretended  to  be  asleep.  Then  Stoughton  and 
Hohvorthy  burst  in  on  me,  and  Hoi.  said,  '  He  's 

been  asleep  all  through  the  race, — the  d d 

little  fool ! ' 

"  *  It  was  a  confounded  low  trick,'  said  Stough 
ton.  *  Let 's  wake  him  up  and  tell  him  Harvard 
won, — and  then  give  him  a  d — d  good  dinner 
to  pay  for  it.' 

"  So  they  shook  me,  and  I  woke  up  slowly 
and  rubbed  my  eyes. 

"  '  Is  it  time  to  get  up,  fellows  ?  '   I  asked. 

"  '  Pretty  near,'  said  Hohvorthy,  laughing,  and 
fetching  in  my  clothes  on  the  quiet  from  his 
trunk,  where  he  'd  locked  'em  up.' 

"  '  Why,  it  's  late  ! '  I  gasped,  springing  out 
of  bed.  '  You  're  all  dressed  !  What  a  time 
we  had  last  night, — I  must  have  slept  like  a 
log!' 

"  I  hurriedly  dressed  myself  and  kept  talking 
about  the  race,  and  the  '  sure  thing'  Harvard 
had,  and  giving  them  the  biggest  sort  of  a  bluff 
to  bet  with  me.  But  they  seemed  sort  of  low- 
spirited,  and  finally  Holworthy  said,  '  I  feel 
just  as  if  the  whole  thing  was  over  and  Yale 
had  won  the  race, — as  usual.' 

"  *  So  do  I,'  groaned  Stoughton  yawning. 


226  Yale  Yarns. 

"  '  Now,  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do/  I  said,  '  I 
don't  see  how  we  can  win  ; — I  understand  one 
of  our  men  has  a  felon  on  his  hand— 

"  *  Your  whole  crew  is  a  set  of  felons ! ' 
laughed  Holvvorthy,  dismally. 

"  *  Then  our  boat  is  warped  way  out  of  shape,' 
I  said.  '  And  they  say  it  's  cranky.  I  don't 
see  how  we  can  have  the  ghost  of  a  show. 
Whereas  it  's  a  beauty — the  Harvard  crew.' 

"  Stoughton  made  a  wry  face.  It  was  nuts 
to  me  to  rub  it  in  ! 

" '  The  Harvard  crew  is  acknowledged  by 
every  one  to  be  the  best  the  Crimson  has  had 
for  ten  years.  Of  course,  I  expect  to  give  odds. 
How  would  five  to  one  suit  you  ? 

"  Stoughton  thought  the  odds  fair,  but 
*  did  n't  know.' 

"  '  Well,  I  '11  give  you  a  hundred  to  twenty 
Yale  wins  the  race ! — Even  the  most  died-in- 
the-wool  Harvard  man  on  earth  must,  for  the 
sake  of  his  college,  accept  such  odds.' 

"  *  I  'm  not  betting  this  year,'  yawned  Hoi- 
worthy. 

"  '  Well,  I  '11  bet  you  two  hundred  to  twenty, 
Stoughton,  Yale  wins  the  race  this  year.  Come 


'$=> 
now ! 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          227 

"  Stoughton  said,  '  Make  that  twenty  dollars 
to  two,  and  I  don't  mind, — for  the  honor  of  the 
old  college,'  and  he  winked  at  Holworthy. 

"  '  Well,— I  '11  bet  five  hundred  to  ten.' 

" '  Those  appear  to  be  decent  odds/  said 
Stoughton  ;  '  but — you  see — 

"  '  What  odds  does  Harvard  want  this  year  ?  ' 
I  asked,  pretending  to  be  amazed. 

"'Well,'  said  Stoughton,  'we  think  five  hun 
dred  to  a  good  cigar  is  about  right  !  ' 

"  And  they  both  laughed. 

"Then,  as  I  was  brushing  my  hair, — I  felt 
fine  as  a  fiddle  after  my  bath, — they  made  an 
excuse  and  went  down,  to  obtain  something  to 
cheer  them  in  defeat,  I  suppose. 

"  I  went  down-stairs  and  met  my  sister,  who 
told  me  she  was  relieved  to  see  me  skimming 
along  the  outer  edge  of  the  bathing  houses, 
and  so  on  up  to  my  room,  after  last  seeing  me 
swimming  about  in  the  water.  I  explained 
how  Holworthy  and  Stoughton  had  hid  my 
clothes,  and  she  asked  : 

"  '  How  can  you  pay  them  off  ?  ' 

"  *  I  '11  attend  to  them  later.  Meanwhile,  I 
will  try  and  get  even  with  our  Harvard  friends 
aboard  the  Fairy." 


228  Yale  Yarns. 

"  '  Oh, — they  Ve  just  invited  a  large  party  to 
go  out  for  a  *  tea  and  a  sail,'  she  said,  '  and 
have  n't  asked  us  !  ' 

"  '  Very  good/  I  replied,  and  I  sat  down 
and  wrote  a  note  to  the  mate  on  a  sheet  of 
hotel  paper,  and  signed  it  '  J.  L.  Paton,' — one 
of  the  owners.  I  sent  this  down  to  the  wharf, 
where  the  mate  was  waiting  with  the  launch, — 
by  a  hotel  boy  in  buttons,  and  gave  him  a  quar 
ter  to  go  on  the  dead  run.  Then  my  sister  and 
I  sauntered  out  on  the  piazza,  and  congratu 
lated  a  lot  of  Yale  people,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  Fairy  crowd  on 
all  steam  and  head  up  the  harbor ! 

"  Paton  and  his  Harvard  friends, — there 
must  have  been  twenty-five  people, — a  lot  of 
stunning  girls,  too, — must  have  been  some 
what  surprised  !  I  sent  an  order  to  the  Fairy 
to  steam  at  once  up  to  Red  Top,  Harvard's 
quarters,  four  miles  up  the  river,  and  wait 
there  until  Paton  and  party  arrived  ! 

"  They  all  got  down  on  the  wharf  in  time  to 
see  the  yacht  steam  off  in  great  shape  !  Paton 
was  in  a  regular  blue  funk !  The  mate,  of 
course,  thought  they  had  concluded  to  go  up 
in  carriages. 


In  the  Toils  of  the  Enemy.          229 

"  And  how  did  you  get  even  \vith  Hoi- 
worthy  ?  " 

"  Never  did.  They  gave  me  a  great  dinner 
and  all  that ;  but  really,  I  had  no  grudge  against 
those  chaps,  whatever.  I  'd  had  a  good  time, 
— saw  the  race  under  very  pleasant  circum 
stances, — and  why,  there  you  are  !  " 

"  But  one  thing, — what  did  your  aunt  say  to 
it  all?" 

"  Oh,  she  had  just  sat  out  there  all  day  at 
the  Pequot,  looking  on.  '  I  have  had  all  the 
racing  7  needed/  she  said,  '  watching  the  stu 
dents  and  their  girl  friends  racing  up  and  down 
the  piazza ! '  " 


AN  HYPNOTIC  SEANCE. 

AT  the  Barrington's,  one  night  in  August,  the 
following  proceedings  took  place,  as  narrated 
by  Billy  Scot,  over  several  mugs  of  beer,  in 
his  room  in  Lawrance,  to  a  number  of  fellows 
gathered  there,  and  after  he  had  made  them  an 
excellent  rarebit,  and  set  up  some  capital  pdtt 
de  fois  gras. 

The  story  was  told  a  propos  of  a  certain 
learned  Professor  Dribble,  (mathematics)  who 
had  just  conditioned  "  Little  Jack"  Horner  in 
Conic  Sections,  and  against  whom  poor  Little 
Jack  had  been  humorously  (and  otherwise) 
animadverting  all  the  evening,  in  more  or  less 
terse  and  emphatic  language. 

"  To  ease  your  mind,  Jack,"  said  Scot,  "  I  '11 
tell  you  of  the  grind  on  '  Drib/  which  we  played 
on  him  down  at  Sands  Point,  last  August.  He 
is  n't  infallible, — and  it 's  possible  that  he  's 
made  a  mistake  in  your  stand, — though  you 
can't  get  him  to  admit  it.  lie  was  there  at 
230 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  231 

the  hotel  with  his  solemn  wife  and  son,  and,  as 
he  knew  old  Mr.  Barrington,  he  came  over  to 
call  one  evening.  We  found  him  there  when  we 
all  got  back  from  sailing.  There  were  "  Great's  " 
three  sisters,  a  Miss  Standish, — a  beaut — a  Miss 
Hallows,  of  New  York,  and  "  Boots "  Paige, 
Great,  and  myself; — Oh!  I  forgot  Mrs.  Bar 
rington,  who  is  the  champion  chaperon  of 
America, — deaf  and  not  inclined  to  talk,  and  a 
great  sleeper.  She  holds  the  state  record  of  en 
gagements  of  couples  directly  under  her  charge. 
I  forget  how  many, — twenty-seven,  I  think. 
Well,  we  got  back  and  found  the  Professor 
there,  and  Great  and  I  thought  it  was  an  ex 
cellent  opportunity  to  get  even  for  several  past 
little  amenities, — he  and  I  never  got  on  well 
since  he  forced  me  to  hand  him  up  a  paper  I 
happened  to  have  in  my  hand,  at  the  board, 
one  day  in  Freshman  year.  He  was  so  certain 
sure  it  was  a  skinning  paper  !  I  gave  it  to  him, 
and, — poor  old  chap, — he  had  to  read  this 
wretched  doggerel : 

"  There  was  an  old  prof,  named  Dribble, 
Who  taught  us  to  cipher  and  scribble, 
We  know  that  he  drinks 
Ice  water  and  thinks 
As  a  psychical  crank — He  's  a  dibble  ! 


232  Yale  Yarns. 

"  He  is  an  hypnotic  crank,  you  know,  and 
he  tried  to  hypnotize  me  after  recitation  that 
day  when  he  called  me  up  ; — but  I  pretended  I 
did  n't  know  what  was  on  the  paper  and  that 
I  'd  just  picked  it  up  from  the  floor,  and  he 
did  n't  get  on  to  what  was  going  on  in  my 
mind.  *  Nay,  nay — Pauline  ! '  If  he  had,  he  'd 
been  more  disgusted  than  ever ! 

"  Well,  rcvcnons  a  nos  muttons,  as  they  say  in 
Paree.  We  went  in  and  introduced  him  all 
around  to  all  the  girls  and  coached  Miss  Leila 
Barrington  to  ask  him  if  he  was  not  a  member 
of  the  Boston  Society  of  Psychical  Research  ? 
and  to  say  that  she  had  often  heard  of  his 
hypnotic  power.  She  asked  on  her  own  ac 
count,  would  he  use  his  strange  power  to  com 
pel  a  favorable  or  an  unfavorable  answer  to  a 
question  in  class  room  ?  He  answered,  I  re 
member  his  exact  words,  '  I  try  to  be  absolutely 
and  strictly  impartial  in  the  class  room,  Miss 
Leila—' " 

"  He  impartial !  every  one  knows  the  old  fel 
low  has  his  favorites,  and  does  his  best  to  help 
them  over  hard  places  !  "  put  in  Little  Jack. 

"  *  Of  course,  generally  ! '  said  Miss  Leila. 
Awfully  clever  girl,  Leila  Barrington. 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  233 

"  '  But,  if  a  student  was  very  low  in  his 
stand,  would  you  not  hypnotize  him  into  giv 
ing  the  right  answer,  to  help  him  out  ?  Say  he 
was  near  being  dropped  for  low  stand  ?  ' 

"  '  Well,  hardly,— I  should  hope  not ! ' 

"  '  Professor,  I  think  you  might — '  she  said. 

"  '  No,  not  on  your  life  you  would  n't  ! '  sang 
out  Boots  Paige,  after  which  there  was  a  little 
pause, — in  fact,  a  dead  silence. 

"  '  Professor  Dribble,'  said  Great,  '  we  all 
have  a  great  interest  in  mind  reading,  and  hyp 
notism.  We  tried  an  experiment  the  other 
morning,  and  owing  to  the  wonderful  talent  of 
Miss  Standish,  (here  Miss  Standish  giggled)  we 
precipitated  a  really  remarkable  case  of  mind 
transference,  telepathy  you  call  it,  do  you  not  ?  ' 

"  '  Ah,  indeed  ? '  asked  Professor  Dribble, 
stroking  his  grizzle  beard,  and  very  much  in 
terested.  '  Yes,  we  call  some  instances  tele 
pathy.' 

"  '  Suppose  we  repeat  the  experiment  now/ 
I  said,  '  for  the  professor's  benefit.' 

"  The  girls,  not  knowing  exactly  what  we 
were  going  to  do,  gave  a  grudging  sort  of  as 
sent,  fearing  that  the  professor  would  discover 
the  joke. 


234  Yale  Yarns. 

" '  Would  you  like  to  have  the  experiment 
tried  ? '  asked  Miss  Leila,  going  up  to  the  pro 
fessor  very  demurely. 

"  '  Oh,  very  much, — yes,  indeed.  Anything 
new  is  just  so  far  an  addition  to  our  human 
knowledge  on  this  occult  subject.  Really,  it 
will  gratify  me  very  much/ 

"  *  Well  then,  Professor,  will  you  go  out  into 
the  hall,  and  I  will  close  the  door,'  I  said,  at  the 
same  time  cautioning  him  not  to  listen.  '  You 
won't  try  to  deceive  us,  will  you  ?  ' 

"  *  Certainly  not  !  '  he  said,  and  out  he  went. 

"  When  the  door  was  shut,  the  girls  were  all 
in  a  panic.  They  were  afraid  of  him,  you  see. 
He  looked  very  fierce  and  earnest. 

"  '  Why,  he  's  easy  fruit,'  said  Great,  laughing. 

"  '  Now,  then,  I  '11  call  him  in  and  tell  him 
that  we  will  join  hands,  and  he  must  take  yours, 
Miss  Standish,  for  I  told  him  and  he  believes 
you  are  the  arch  high-priestess  of  witch-craft 
among  us,  and  full  of  electricity.' 

"  '  Oh,  I  'm  too  frightened  !  '  she  exclaimed, 
laughing. 

"  '  Why,  it 's  nothing.  Let  me  explain.  It 's 
an  old  gag.  We  '11  all  sit  down  in  a  circle, 
holding  hands  ;  the  professor  will  come  in.  We 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  235 

are  supposed  to  choose  a  word,  anything,  and 
he  is  supposed  to  read  it  through  our  hands, 
— see  ?  Now,  I  will  say  to  him,  *  Speak  out,  Pro 
fessor,  the  first  phrase  or  word  that  distinctly 
occurs  to  your  mind.'  Then  suppose  he  says 
the  word  '  Senegambia,'  we  must  all  give  a 
shout,  and  say  '  that  's  it !  that  's  it  !  '  After 
he  has  done  it  once  or  twice,  I  '11  go  out  and 
then  you  must  really  choose  a  word, — see  ?  and 
Miss  Leila,  you  must  spell  it  out  with  your  fin 
ger  on  my  wrist,  as  you  hold  my  hand  ;  one  for 
A,  two  for  B,  three  for  C,  and  so  forth  down 
the  alphabet  ;  and  then  I  '11  say  it  out  and  you 
must  shout  as  before.  See  ?  ' 

" '  Yes,'  said  Miss  Leila,  *  we  see,  of  course, 
but  that  mind-reading  joke  is  awfully  stale, — 
it 's  been  played  for  ever  so  long  ;  it  was  a  reg 
ular  game  at  Bar  Harbor  last  summer.' 

"  '  I  don't  believe  the  professor  has  ever  been 
horsed  by  it,'  said  Great,  '  Let  's  try  it  on  any 
way.' 

"  *  Why,  we  sold  everybody  we  could  with 
that  at  Nantucket  years  ago,'  said  one  of  the 
Barrington  girls.  '  Of  course  he  will  know  it.' 

"  '  Well,  we  Ve  got  him  out  of  the  room  now, 
and  must  do  something  with  him,'  said  I. 


236  Yale  Yarns. 

"  '  Oh,  Mr.  Scot,  why  not  let  him  hypnotize 
you  ?  '  said  Miss  Leila. 

"  '  No,  he  might  order  me  to  kiss  every  girl 
in  the  room,  and  that  would  be  too  embarrass 
ing  !  '  and  Scotty  pretended  to  blush. 

"  '  Oh,  let  's  try  it  on  anyway  ! '  said  Great. 
'  Perhaps  he  won't  know  the  trick ;  he  may 
never  have  seen  it.' 

"  So,  after  a  good  deal  of  discussion  the  circle 
was  formed  and  the  professor  brought  in. 

"  It  was  very  evident  that  he  had  not  seen 
the  trick  (common  enough — Heaven  knows!) 
played  before.  Boots  turned  down  the  gas  to  a 
dim  religious  light  and  turned  out  the  lamps,  and 
we  all  sat  in  solemn  silence  fully  five  minutes. 

"  *  Really,'  said  the  professor,  '  I  don't  feel 
like  pronouncing  anything.' 

"  *  Think  now,  concentrate  your  mind,'  said 
Boots, — using  the  professor's  usual  dicta  of  the 
class  room. 

"  Then  Professor  Dribble  smirked  and  smiled 
with  sudden  great  joy  and  came  out  with 
'  Aliquando  bonus  dormitat  Homer  us  !  ' 

"  '  Yes  !  That  's  it !  that  's  it !  '—as  if  those 
poor  girls  could  remember  a  Latin  sentence  for 
five  minutes ! 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  237 

"  The  professor  said,  '  Oh,  I  'm  not  at  all  as 
tonished,  the  atmospheric  conditions  seem 
favorable  ;  I  congratulate  you,  Miss  Standish, 
you  have  a  most  delicate  and  unusual  nervous 
sense ;  I  could  feel  the  electric  current  distinct 
ly.  Your  hand-pressure  is  exceedingly  delicate 
— but  firm ' 

"  Barrington  said,  '  Yes — she  had  a  firm  grasp 
of  the  subject !  ' 

"  Miss  Standish,  who  was  a  stunning  pretty 
girl,  laughed  and  blushed,  and  we  all  said,  '  Oh 
—oh — oh  !  however  could  you  do  it  !  '  and  the 
girls  made  faces  at  her — to  her  confusion. 

"  You  see,  the  Professor  had  long  been  a  be 
liever  in  and  a  supporter  of  the  most  advanced 
theories  of  hypnotism  and  mind  transference, 
and  everything  went  with  him  in  great  shape. 
He  was  quite  ready  to  believe,  which  I  under 
stand  is  a  necessary  condition  to  be  in,  in  all  of 
these  occult  mysteries.  He  was  ready  to  be 
lieve  anything,  for  the  old  well-worn  trick  had 
never  been  played  on  him  before. 

"The  girls  laughed  and  giggled  and  enjoyed 
it  immensely,  and  old  Mr.  Barrington  came  in 
and  we  told  him  the  joke,  and  he  laughed 
louder  than  the  rest,  and  the  professor  never 


238  Yale  Yarns. 

caught  on.  We  went  in  and  horsed  him  to  his 
bent. 

"  He  went  out  of  the  room  again  and  this 
time  he  announced  the  phrase  '  Enthusiasm  is 
a  waste  of  energy,'  and  we  all  waved  our  hand 
kerchiefs  and  shouted  as  before.  The  profes 
sor  was  quite  carried  away,  and  took  careful 
notes  of  all  that  happened. 

"  Then  I  think,  Paige  went  out,  and  Boots 
acted  the  thing  up  in  great  shape.  He  seemed 
to  go  into  a  trance  and  rolled  up  his  eyes  and 
called  out,  *  Mother,  where  are  you  ?  '  twice,  and 
made  all  sorts  of  grimaces,  and  kept  us  in  roars 
of  laughter,  and  then  announced  the  word 
*  Humbug  ! '  which  was  the-  word  Leila  and 
her  brother  had  selected. 

<f  Then  Great  went  out  and  came  in  and  an 
nounced  '  Professor,'  a  word  which  he  had 
selected,  of  course ; — then  he  went  out  and 
came  in  again  and  announced  '  Badly  Fooled.' 

"  We  thought  sure  he  would  catch  on  to  this 
but  he  did  n't,  he  was  so  taken  up  with  the  per 
fect  thought-transfer  that  was  taking  place. 
You  see  he  was  n't  thinking  of  anything  else. 
Poor  old  chap  ! 

"  Then  we  tried  the  Ouija  game  on  him,  and 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  239 

horsed  him  quite  as  badly  in  that.  Oh,  it  was 
great  !  Drib  was  completely  taken  in,  and  we 
were  glad  to  have  him  get  out  of  the  house 
without  some  of  the  girls  giving  it  away.  The 
elder  Miss  Barrington  began  to  show  great 
compunction,  and  we  had  to  '  work  it '  to  get 
him  away." 

"  How  did  you  accomplish  that  ?  " 

"  Very  simply.  Great  slipped  off  down  cellar 
and  turned  off  all  the  gas,  and  I  got  Drib's  hat 
and  cane  and  gently  led  him  out,  and  bade  him 
good  evening." 

"  That  was  certainly  a  very  gentle  hint !  " 

"  Well, — you  have  to  '  hammer  '  old  Drib  !  " 
and  Scot  laughed. 

"  And  that  is  the  last  you  Ye  heard  of 
it?" 

"  Yes, — except  for  the  copy  of  the  Psychic 
Science  Review,  in  which  the  Professor's  ac 
count  of  what  transpired  that  evening  is  most 
accurately  set  down.  It  is  marked  Case  1 12, 
896.  We  bought  a  dozen  copies  and  sent  them 
to  all  the  girls." 

Billy  Scot  took  the  Review  out  of  his  inside 
pocket,  and  read  aloud  from  the  professor's 
paper : 


1 4°  Yale  Yarns. 

"Case  No.  112,  896,  in  the  Psychic  Science 
Review. 

"On  the  eighteenth  day  of  August,  189-, 
while  making  a  social  visit  on  John  B.  Bar- 
rington,  Esq.,  and  lady,  at  his  country  seat,  at 
Sands  Point,  Ct.,  the  following  actual  occur 
rences  took  place  : 

"  I  was  invited  by  Mr.  P.,  a  student  at  Yale, 
to  join  my  right  hand  to  that  of  a  young  lady, 
Miss  S.,  and  my  left  to  that  of  Miss  B.  A  circle 
was  then  formed  consisting  of  eight  persons, 
who  had  previously  and  while  I  was  out  of  the 
room  with  the  door  shut,  selected  a  phrase 
which  was  to  be  communicated  to  me  solely  by 
manual  touch. 

"  We  had  been  sitting  in  a  chain  for  four  min 
utes,  thirty-two  seconds,  when  the  phrase,  '  Ali- 
quando  bonus  dormitat  Homerus'  forced  itself 
from  my  lips.  It  transpired  that  this  was  the 
very  phrase  that  was  selected.  I  wish  to  call  es 
pecial  attention  to  the  facts,  (i)  that  the  phrase 
was  in  the  Latin  tongue,  (2)  that  no  other  or 
secondary  phrase  was  suggested,  (3)  that  it 
being  the  first  test,  more  time  was  consumed 
than  in  the  subsequent  experiments  for  the  in 
duction  of  the  suggestion,  (4)  that  no  fascina- 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  241 

tion,  which  plays  an  important  part  in  hypnosis, 
was  exercised  on  me  by  either  lady,  (5)  that  in 
no  way  was  hypnosis  induced  by  means  of  the 
eye. 

"  The  next  experiment  resulted  in  my  an 
nouncing  the  sentence,  '  Enthusiasm  is  a  waste 
of  energy,'  which  was  correct. 

"  During  the  induction  of  this  sentence, 
which  required  two  minutes,  thirty-six  seconds, 
I  inadvertently  pressed  the  hand  of  Miss  S., 
who  hastily  withdrew  her  hand  from  mine,  and 
again  resumed  connection  with  me  only  on  the 
earnest  entreaty  of  all  present.  I  attributed 
my  sudden  pressure  to  animal  magnetism,  and 
so  stated  at  the  conclusion  of  the  test,  but  this 
seemed  to  be  disbelieved  by  those  present." 

"  A  third  test  was  then  made,  I  announcing 
correctly  '  Cross  as  two  sticks/  in  a  little  less 
than  two  minutes. 

"  Another  gentleman,  Mr.  P.,  then  left  the 
room,  and  in  his  absence  we  selected  the  word 
'  Humbug.' 

"  Mr.  P.,  on  making  one  of  the  circle,  exhi 
bited  at  once  the  extraordinary  phenomena  of 
hypnosis.  The  lids  of  his  eyes  half  closed,  his 
eyeballs  turned  up,  exhibiting  to  those  in  the 

16 


242  Yale  Yarns. 

room  only  the  whites.  His  head  fell  back,  and 
then  upon  his  left  shoulder.  After  one  minute 
and  forty-three  seconds,  he  emitted  groans  of 
a  dismal  character  and  breathed  heavily.  He 
then  announced  the  word  *  Hum,'  paused  for 
three  minutes,  and  then  announced  the  word 
'bug.'  On  breaking  the  chain,  Mr.  P.  came 
completely  to  himself,  but  was  heard  to  com 
plain  of  the  heat  and  to  ask  for  his  maternal 
parent.  The  temperature  of  the  room  being 
(without  accurate  measurement)  about  84° 
Fahr. 

"  Young  Mr.  B.,  then,  without  manifestations 
of  extraordinary  hypnosis,  after  two  minutes, 
thirty-three  seconds,  announced  the  word  '  Pro 
fessor,'  and  afterwards,  after  three  minutes,  four 
seconds,  the  two  words  '  Badly  fooled.' 

"  All  of  which  I  subscribe  to,  and  desire  to 
bear  witness  to,  over  my  signature  and  notarial 
certificate,  which  see  below. 

"  A  desire  for  experimentalization  in  thought 
transference  on  planchette,  or,  what  is  the  same 
toy,  Ouijtty  being  expressed,  a  board  was 
promptly  placed  on  the  table,  in  the  centre  of 
the  room. 

"  Miss   S.   seated    herself   at    the    board  and 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  243 

placed  her  hands  upon  the  planchette.  Mr.  P. 
sat  opposite,  and  placed  one  hand  on  the  board. 
Certain  questions  were  asked  by  Miss  B.,  who 
stood  at  the  further  end  of  the  room,  her  back 
turned. 

"Question  I.     Of  whom  am  I  thinking? 

"  Answer  by  Ouija  :  Tommy  Atkyns. 

"  Miss  B.  admitted  this  to  be  the  correct  if 
remarkable  answer. 

"  Question  2.  Of  whom  am  I  thinking  now  ? 

"  Answer.     A  handsome  man. 

"Question  3.     What  does  he  look  like? 

"  Answer.     A  bearded  chimpanzee. 

"  Question  4.     What  is  his  name  ? 

"  Answer.     Professor  Dribble. 

"  On  Miss  B.  stating  that  the  answer  was  in 
correct,  Ouija  answered,  '  Sometimes  called 
Fribble.' 

"  As  this  was  the  first  incorrect  answer  of  the 
evening,  it  was  determined  to  ask  in  a  further 
attempt. 

"  Question  5.  Is  the  spirit  of  George  Wash 
ington  present  ? 

"  Answer.     Yes. 

"  Question  6.     Will  he  speak  through  Ouija  ? 

"  Answer.     Perhaps. 


244  Yale  Yarns. 

''Question  7.     Why  perhaps? 

"  Answer.    The  lady  is  not  entirely  truthful. 

"  Miss  S.  at  this  point  abruptly  retired,  and 
Miss  Leila  B.,  a  sister  of  the  interlocutor,  took 
her  seat  at  the  table. 

"  Question  8.     Will  he  speak  now? 

"  Answer.     Certainly. 

"  Question  9.  How  old  would  you  be  if  you 
were  now  living,  George  ? 

"  Answer.  Almost  old  enough  to  be  your 
grandpa,  dear. 

"  Question  10.  Are  you  happy  where  you 
are  ? 

"  Answer.  Of  course.  There  are  no  mar 
riages  in  heaven. 

"  Of  course  these  answers  naturally  afforded 
the  guests  assembled  considerable  diversion  and 
amusement.  The  answers  demonstrated  the 
peculiar  playfulness  of  those  in  the  Spirit 
world.  This  has  been  often  remarked  before. 
The  interrogation  of  Washington  continued  for 
some  time  in  the  same  light  vein,  and  then 
the  following  questions  were  put : 

''Question  11.  If  not  yourself,  who  would 
you  rather  be? 

"  Answer.     Professor  Dribble. 


An  Hypnotic  Seance.  245 

"  Question  12.     Why? 

"Answer.     Because  he  is  a  medium. 

"Question  13.  You  mean  he  has  extraordi 
nary  powers  ? 

"  Answer.  Extraordinary  mental  powers, 
with  one  defect. 

"  Question  14.     What  is  that  ? 

"  Answer.  He  can't  see  through  a  mill-stone 
with  a  hole  in  it. 

"Question  15.  You  mean  he  is  not  clair 
voyant  ? 

"  Answer.     Opaque. 

"Question  16.  What  must  he  do  to  be 
clairvoyant  ? 

"  Answer.     Eat  isinglass. 

"Question  17.     And  what  else? 

"  Answer.     Go  west. 

"This  was  most  extraordinary,  as  I  had  only 
the  previous  week  received  a  call  to  the  chair 
of  higher  mathematics  at  Oberlin,  over  which  I 
was  then  debating,  but  since  which  time  I  have 
declined. 

"  At  this  point,  Miss  Leila  B.  rose  from  the 
table,  stating  that  it  '  made  her  tired/  1  and  the 

1  Often  the  case  with  hypnotic  subjects  owing  to  neural  dis 
turbance. — H.  R.  D. 


246  Yale  Yarns. 

experimentation  ceased,  at  ten  hours,  fourteen 
minutes.  Shortly  after  I  returned  to  my  hotel, 
and  immediately  made  the  above  memoranda 
of  facts.  It  is  only  by  an  accumulation  of 
evidence  such  as  the  foregoing,  that  we  shall 
in  time,  in  my  judgment,  arrive  at  the  true 
scientific  basis  of  thought  transference,  or  tele 
pathy. 

"  With  great  respect,  I  am, 
"Yours, 

u  HENRY  R.  DRIBBLE. 

44  State  of  Conn.   ) 
County  of  Blank,  j  ss 

"  HENRY  R.  DRIBBLE,  being  duly  sworn,  makes  oath 
this  igth  day  of  August,  1891,  and  says  that  the  above  account 
is  in  substance  strictly  true. 

44  J.  R.  JONES, 

44  Notary  Public,  Blank  County.  Ct." 


A  VIOLENT  REMEDY. 

SUSCEPTIBLE  Adolphus  Austin,  during  the 
long  vacation  of  the  previous  summer,  had  met 
at  Bar  Harbor,  and  afterwards  followed  to  the 
mountains,  a  certain  Miss  Fanny  Gower,  who 
from  all  accounts,  was  not  bad.  Paige,  who 
had  met  her,  said  she  was  nice  people.  "  Sleuth  " 
Davidson,  who  was  a  great  judge,  knew  her, 
too,  and  said  he  never  cared  for  those  impas 
sive  summer  creatures  who  look  down  on  a'  man 
from  such  a  tremendous  height, — and  expect 
you  to  keep  them  in  candy  and  reading  matter 
and  flowers,  and  who  always  were  on  the  make, 
— and  expected  you  to  pay  for  being  with  them 
at  so  much  an  hour,  in  carriage  and  boat  hire. 
"  I  give  that  class  the  shake,"  said  Sleuth,  of 
the  level  head,  "  and  let  them  understand  at 
once  that  I  am  the  only  son  of  an  aged  widow, 
who  supports  me  !  " 

Adolphus  had  followed  his  inamorata  down 
from  Mt.  Desert  to  the  Profile  House,  and  had 
danced  and  flirted  with  her  all  through  August 
247 


248  Yale  Yarns. 

and  September,  and  just  before  his  return  to 
College,  on  a  coaching  party  through  the 
mountains,  had  been  gently  but  distinctly  in 
formed  that  she  could  only  hold  to  him  the  posi 
tion  of  a  devoted  sister.  He  acquiesced  in  her 
decision  but  it  had  "  knocked  him  silly "  as 
they  said.  He  had  been  harder  hit  than  he 
imagined,  and  when  he  got  back  to  the  Eve- 
less  paradise  of  Welch  Hall,  he  fell  into  a 
gentle  melancholy  over  his  affair  which  showed 
no  signs  of  yielding  to  the  exquisitely  humor 
ous  chaffing  of  his  chum  and  their  friends. 

He  was  a  good  fellow, — and  the  girl,  of 
course,  had  treated  him  shamefully, — so  they 
said ;  and  he  ought  to  be  glad  to  give  up  such 
a  cruel-hearted  flirt  and  whistle  her  down  the 
winds,  etc.  With  the  "  crowd,"  any  girl  who 
had  been  at  all  "  repellent  "  was  an  arch  flirt. 

"  She  's  been  an  angel, — a  perfect  angel,"  he 
said  ;  "  and  I  don't  deserve  her,  and  it  was  only 
her  goodness  of  heart  which  prompted  her  to 
let  me  remain  near  her  as  long  as  I  did." 

"  Spending  twenty  dollars  a  day  for  her 
amusement, — "  interlarded  "  Laze"  Aldrich,  his 
chum,  over  his  briarwood. 

Austin  only  sighed. 


A  Violent  Remedy.  249 

"And  when,  like  an  ass,  I  went  too  far, —and 
told  her  how  impossible  it  was  to  exist  with 
out  her — 

"  The  season  being  over,  and  she  being  on 
the  point  of  going  back  to  town " 

"  She  kindly  told  me  that  she  could  not 
possibly  bring  herself  seriously  to  care  for  me, 
and  that  we  must  part  forever." 

"  Well, — Adolphus, — don't  take  it  too  much 
to  heart  ;  there  are  others." 

"  There  is  but  one  Fanny  Gower  !  " 

Then  Austin  threw  himself  into  a  deep  easy 
chair  and  lit  his  pipe. 

"  My  advice  is,  always  let  the  girl  fall  in  love 
with  you  ;  not  you  with  the  girl,"  said  Aldrich 
sententiously. 

"  Well, — it  's  all  over  now,"  sighed  Adolphus. 
"  I  shall  never  marry,  Laze.  I  'm  over  all  that 
sort  of  thing  now,  for  all  time,  and  yet, — I 
dreamed " 

Austin  looked  gloomily  out  of  the  window. 

Aldrich  sniffed,  and  burst  out  : 

"  Poor  old  idealist  !  Don't  you  know  that 
all  girls  are  selfish,  vain,  merely  imitative  crea 
tures,  and  affected  ?  If  you  don't, — why — 
I  'm  deuced  sorry  for  you." 


250  Yale  Yarns. 

"  Aldrich,  you  're  a  cynic.  Most  girls  have 
a  wider,  more  spiritual  and  higher  view  of  life 
than  we  men  are  capable  of." 

Aldrich  turned  to  his  Jevoris  Logic  im 
patiently. 

Then  Adolphus  sat  down  at  the  piano  and 
began  to  sing  softly  : 

"  I  shot  an  arrow  into  the  air, 
It  fell  to  earth, — I  know  not  where " 

Aldrich  rudely  interrupted,  in  a  hoarse  basso  : 

"  The  next  day  a  man  came  round 
And  sold  me  a  dead  dog  at  a  dollar  a  pound " 

— It  wasn't  original  with  Aldrich,  he  got  it  out 
of  a  newspaper,  but  he  liked  to  sit  on  his  chum's 
manifestations  of  sentiment  as  often  and  as 
severely  as  he  could.  To  be  afflicted  with 
sentiment  he  deemed  "  dreadfully  effeminate," 
and  Austin  was  getting  to  be  too  sentimental 
for  any  living  with  him. 

He  went  up  to  see  Keith  and  Horner  in 
Lawrance,  after  a  little  while,  and  said,  as  he 
entered  the  room  :  "  Damn  a  lovesick  fool !  " 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  My  chum " 

"  Adolphus  ? — still  stuck  on  that  pretty  Fanny 
Gower  ?  Why,  she  's  a  wicked  flirt! 


A  Violent  Remedy.  251 

Little  Jack  threw  his  book  down  and  cocked 
his  feet  up  on  a  table,  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"Yes,— just  a  nice  tidy  little  flirt,— that  's 
all,"  said  Aldrich,  half  provoked,  half  laughing, 
"  but  she  's  spoiled  him." 

Little  Jack  Horner  puffed  at  his  cigarette 
thoughtfully. 

"  There  's  only  one  way  to  cure  a  lovesick 
fool,"  he  said  solemnly.  "  Get  him  to  fall  in 
love  with  a  new  girl."  He  puffed  twice  again. 
"  Then,  when  he  's  fallen  out  with  the  new  girl, 
he  's  cured — See?  " 

"  Well,  where  's  your  new  girl  ?  " 

"  Oh,  any  girl  will  do,  I  suppose," 

"  Now,  that  seems  to  me  rattling  good 
sense." 

"  I  mean, — if  you  can't  find  one, — make  up 
one.' 

"  That  's  even  more  sensible  !  " 

"  Oh,  Tom  Keith,"  called  Little  Jack,  "  Come 
in  here !  " 

At  the  moment  Tom  Keith  was  in  his  bed 
room  trying  on  his  make-up  for  the  joint-play 
(Psi  U  and  D.K.E.)  and  as  he  was  cast  for  a 
fashionable  daughter  of  a  tremendously  rich 
banker,  his  sudden  apparition  at  the  door  as- 


252  Yale  Yarns. 

tonished  Aldrich  to  a  degree.  Keith  made 
the  prettiest  girl  in  college  by  all  odds.  His 
oval  face,  straight  features,  clear  blue  eyes  and 
nicely  pencilled  eyebrows,  and  small  hands  and 
feet,  gave  him  enormous  advantages.  He  was 
the  college  soubrette/<7r  excellence. 

"  My  boy — I  mean  girl — you  are  a  winner  ! 
I  'd  never  know  you  !  "  exclaimed  Aldrich,  in 
admiration.  "  If  you  were  one,  now,  I  'd  have 
to  speak  to  your  father  !  " 

Keith  adjusted  his  blond  wig  before  the  glass. 
Then  he  adjusted  his  large  hat  on  the  wig,  and 
whitened  his  face  with  a  powder-puff.  Several 
fellows  dropped  in  and  made  comments,  com 
plimentary  and  otherwise.  Keith  began  to  put 
on  airs. 

"  How  about  your  voice,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  sha'n't  mind  about  that, — lots  of  girls 
have  regular  boys'  voices,  you  know. — And 
I  've  heard  that  nowadays  to  talk  way  down  in 
their  boots,  like  men,  was  just  the  cheese." 

Keith,  satisfied  that  his  gown  would  fit,  be 
gan  to  disrobe. 

"  Say, — Tom, — er — er — don't — before  us  !— 
what  do  you  say  to  having  a  little  sport  out  of 
Adolphus  !  "  and  Little  Jack  Homer  puffed  out 


A  Violent  Remedy.  253 

a  cloud  of  smoke.  "  He's  lovesick,  you  know, 
all  girled  up.  It  's  our  duty  to  get  him  out 
of  it." 

"How?" 

"  Put  on  your  sacque  and  go  over  and  pre 
tend  to  want  to  see  Aldrich,  and  say  you  will 
wait  for  him  to  return  ;  Austin  is  there.  Be 
rather  reserved  at  first, — try  it, — and  don't  let 
him  find  out  who  you  are." 

"  What  the  deuce  shall  I  talk  about  ?  " 

"  Oh, — say  you  're  a  cousin  of  Laze, — and 
that  you  are  down  from  school  for  a  few  days 
— you  can  work  it  as  you  see  he  bites  or  not. 
Talk  as  seriously  as  you  can  about  life,  and  the 
future,  and  throw  in  a  little  religion.  You  know 
Adolphus  pretty  well, — you  know  his  soft 
spots.'* 

"  Yes, — and  you  might  hint  at  having  a 
broken  heart  about  you,"  said  Aldrich. 

"  Adolphus  is  in  a  sentimental  mood  just 
now  over  that  Gower  girl, — she  's  thrown  him 
down  ;  it  would  be  a  kindness  to  him  to  flirt  a 
little  with  him.  If  he  bites,  all  right,— get  him 
out  of  his  doldrums,  if  you  can.  He  's  been 
moping  the  last  month." 

"  After  half  an  hour  or  so,  Laze  will  go  back," 


.254  Yale  Yai 

said  Jack,  "  and  be  so  surprised  to  see  his 
cousin  'Bessie,'  and  introduce  you — Then  you  'd 
better  make  some  excuse,  Laze,  and  get  out 
again.  And,  Tom,  you  make  an  appointment 
to-night,  late,  after  your  rehearsal,  with  Austin, 
if  you  can,  and  take  a  moonlight  drive  with 
him." 

"  I  'm  willing,— if  we  can  make  it  go  all 
right,"  said  Keith.  "  But  you  must  all  stand 
by  me." 

"  Oh,  we  '11  take  care  of  that  !— we  '11  set  him 
up  a  dinner  afterwards ; — a  dinner  always 
straightens  everything  out,  you  know." 

So  after  a  little,  Keith, — now  to  be  known 
as  Miss  Bessie  Aldrich,  just  from  school,  slipped 
out  of  the  room,  and  so  over  to  north  entry, 
Welch,  up  two  flights,  and  knocked  timidly  at 
Austin  and  Aldrich's  door. 

"  Come  in,"  sang  out  Austin  in  a  loud  voice, 
concluding  from  the  gentle  knock  that  it  was 
his  washerwoman. 

The  door  opened,  and  Bessie  entered  ;  Adol- 
phus  who  was  seated  with  his  back  to  the  door, 
over  a  long  pipe  in  a  deep-bottomed  easy 
chair,  did  not  turn  to  look  at  her. 

"Just  lay  it  down  anywhere,  Mrs.  Gimly,— 


A  Violent  Remedy.  255 

and  I  '11  pay  you  when  you  call  Saturday.  Owe 
you  for  last  week,  don't  I  ?  By  the  way,  you 
always  seem,  most  lamentably,  to  exhaust 
all  your  starch,  intended,  no  doubt,  for  my  col 
lars  and  shirts,  in  my  towels  and  underclothing. 
Now,  I  do  not  care  to  have  my  silk  socks 
starched  particularly,  and  the  towels  are  better 

as  they  are.  And — d n  it — you  really  have 

very  little  sense,  for  so  advanced  a  person,  Mrs. 
Gimly,  and  you  seem  to  think  I  have  a  i6neck 

—my  number  is  14^-  you  know, By  Jove  ! 

— I — I — beg  your  pardon  !  " 

Bessie  exclaimed  in  a  high  key,  "  Sir — you 
have  apparently  no  idea  who  I  am  !  " 

Adolphus  had  glanced  up,  and  caught  sight 
of  the  pretty  blonde,  who  appeared  to  be  ex 
tremely  shocked  at  his  highly  unparliamentary 
language.  He  bounced  out  of  his  easy  chair, 
and  proceeded  to  make  a  dozen  apologies  at 
once. 

"  Is  my  cousin,  Mr.  Aldrich  in  ?  "  Bessie 
asked  timidly  as  he  finished. 

"  No, — not  at  present.  He  stepped  out  a 
moment  ago.  Won't  you  be  seated  and  wait 
for  him  ?  he  '11  be  back  presently." 

"  Thanks,"  seating  herself  on  the  edge  of  a 


256  Yale  Yarns. 

chair.  "  I — I  came  down  from  school  to  see 
Cousin  Dick,  and — I  'm  to  be  in  New  Haven  a 
few  days." 

"Oh,  that 's  very  good  of  you,  and  my  chum 
will  be  delighted  to  see  you, — I  'm  sure — I— 
I  did  n't  know  he  had  a  cousin  at  school." 

Austin  stood,  half  leaning  on  the  cushioned 
window  seat,  and  Bessie  drew  herself  as  much 
as  possible  into  the  shadow  of  the  curtain,  out 
of  the  light.  So  far,  he  had  bitten  very  well. 

"  I  know  it  must  seem  dreadful  to  come  right 
up  to  his  room  this  way,  without  sending  word, 
— but, — I — I  am  alone." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  sure  you  have  done  just  the  right 
thing." 

"  I  'm  afraid  Cousin  Dick  will  think  I  'm 
awfully  forward." 

"  Why,— not  at  all !  " 

"  You  see, — I — I  have  never  been  in  New 
Haven  before,  and  I  am  so  frightened — I 
have  n't  any  chaperon." 

Bessie's  eyes  dropped  modestly. 

"  I  assure  you  a  chaperon  is  usually  a  great 
bore — when  awake.  She  is  generally  in  the 
way, — and  among  college  men  is  considered 
entirely  unnecessary  under  any  circumstances." 


A  Violent  Remedy.  257 

Adolphus  stared  at  the  pretty  bit  of  femi 
ninity  with  all  his  might.  She  did  n't  smile. 
She  seemed  so  timid,  so  remote,  that  he  at 
once  assumed  a  fatherly,  protecting  air. 

"  It  might  have  been  better  to  telegraph  your 
arrival,"  he  said.  "  If  you  will  wait, — I  will  go 
and  try  to  find  your  cousin." 

"  Oh,  no — don't  go,  please." 

"  Oh,  very  well." 

"  I  Ve  heard  so  much  about  you,  Mr.  Austin, 
from  Cousin  Dick — he  has  told  me  how  bright 
you  are, — and  h — how  you  despise  girls." 

"  I,  despise  girls?  I  may  not  approve  of 
girls — but  I  do  not  despise  them !  "  And  Adol 
phus  beamed  compassionately  upon  her. 

Then  Bessie  giggled. 

"  I  'm  such  a  little  goose  ! — I  'm  afraid  to  be 
left  alone." 

Austin  glanced  quickly  at  Bessie,  and  the 
latter  bit  her  lip,  feeling  that  she  had  gone  too 
far. 

"  Er — er — is  this  your  first  visit  to  New 
Haven?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  hope  it  won't  be  your  last." 

"Thank  you,  sir." 
17 


258  Yale  Yarns. 

"  Suppose  I  put  on  my  hat  and  while  we  wait 
for  my  chum, — suppose  I  show  you  around  the 
buildings.  The  windows  in  the  library  are 
considered  quite  good " 

"  Oh,  let  us  wait  for  Cousin  Dick."  She 
glanced  quickly,  half  coquettishly  at  him,  and 
he  quickly  recognized  the  fact  that  she  was 
pretty,  and  that  she  demanded  from  him  the 
admiration  due  a  pretty  girl. 

Bessie  kept  putting  her  handkerchief  to 
her  lips  in  an  odd  sort  of  way,  and  half  hiding 
herself  behind  the  curtain.  It  was  difficult  for 
him  to  judge  of  her  face, — to  decide  that  she 
was  a  blown  beauty, — he  could  only  judge  so 
from  the  furtive  side  glances  she  gave  him. 

Then  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
Bessie  gave  a  little  scream,  and  said  :  "  Oh, 
I  am  so  frightened  !  I  '11  just  step  in  here,  if  I 
may, — and  close  the  door." 

So  in  she  went,  into  Aldrich's  bedroom. 

Austin  opened  the  door,  and  in  came  Tutor 
Blinky,  looking  quite  solemn.  He  closed  the 
door  behind  him  softly  and  said  . 

"  Mr.  Austin, — I  happened  to  be  coming  in 
the  entry  and  observed  a  young  lady  enter  your 
room.  Of  course  it  is  all  right  and  proper  but 


A  Violent  Remedy.  259 

after  a  little  consideration,  I  determined  to 
speak  to  you  about  it ;  the  College  rules  for 
bid  the  presence  of  a  lady,  unaccompanied  by 
a  chaperon,  in  the  dormitories.  I  may  point 
out  to  you — 

At  that  moment  Laze  Aldrich  sauntered  in. 

"  Oh,— Tutor      Blinky,— delighted     to     see 
you." 

"  I  was  just  saying  that  a  female, — a  young 
lady  was  seen  entering  your  room."  said  the 
tutor. 

"A  "young  lady?  Is  she  here  now?"  asked 
Aldrich. 

"  Of  course,  it's  all  right,  but  I  merely 
wished  to  call  attention  to  the  rule " 

"  But  where  is  she  ?  "  Aldrich  looked  under 
the  table,  in  his  search. 

"  I  don't  see  her,"  said  the  Tutor,  rubbing 
his  hands  together,  nervously. 

"  Then  she  's  gone  ?  " 

"  No, — she  has  n't  gone  !"  Austin  conveyed 
to  his  chum. 

"  She  may  be  in  that  room,"  said  the  Tutor, 
indicating  Aldrich's  bedroom. 

Aldrich  walked  over  to  the  closed  door  of 
the  room  and  said  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Tutor 


260  Yale  Yarns, 

Blinky,  you  must  be  mistaken,  you  will  find  no 
one  in  the  room/' 

Then  he  waited  a  slight  interval,  and  opened 
the  door.  The  room  was  empty. 

As  the  Tutor  (of  a  notoriously  spying  dis 
position)  could  see  plainly  into  Austin's  room 
also,  he  concluded  that  the  young  lady  had  left, 
and  said  so. 

Austin  said  firmly,  "  No  young  lady  has 
passed  out  of  this  door,  sir,  I  assure  you.  Yes, 
— I  am  positive  !  " 

"  No  young  woman  has  been  here  at  all," 
said  Aldrich  positively,  and  perhaps  a  little 
rudely. 

The  Tutor  bowed,  looked  crestfallen,  and 
took  his  departure.  "  Very  likely  I  was  mis 
taken,"  he  said,  as  he  bowed  himself  out. 

"  Well !  "  exclaimed  Austin.  .  "  Your  cousin 
was  here, — and  she  went  into  your  room  on 
hearing  Tutor  Blinky  knock.  But  where  she 
is  now, — it's  a  mystery  !  " 

"  Why,  Austin,  my  dear  boy,  you  are  dream 
ing  !  The  only  cousin  I  have  is  at  school,  up 
at  Hartford." 

"  But  she  was  here, — in  that  chair, — only  a 
few  minutes  ago.  Very  pretty  girl,  too." 


A  Violent  Remedy.  261 

"  I  think  you  Ve  got  all  girled  up  over  that 
Miss  Gower, — you  have  them  on  the  brain  !  If 
my  cousin  (who  by  the  way  is  quite  an  heiress, 
Adolphus)  was  here,  why  is  n't  she  here  now  ? 
She  was  quite  a  substantial  young  lady  the  last 
time  I  saw  her." 

"  She  is  still, — she  's  very  easy  people.  By 
Jove, — she  could  n't  have  got  out  of  my  win 
dow,  of  course, — but,  where  is  she?" 

"  Poor  old  chap  !  you  have  had  an  hallucina 
tion,  as  they  call  it.  Describe  her.  If  you  Ve 
been  asleep  and  dreamed  of  Cousin  Bessie,  it 's 
a  strange  thing,  but  it 's  happened  before  to 
people." 

"  It  is  true  I  was  almost  asleep  when  she  came 
in, — and  first  thought  she  was  my  washer 
woman." 

"  The  whole  thing  has  been  a  hypnotic  sug 
gestion.  You  never  saw  my  cousin  really,  you 
saw  a  projection  of  her,  as  they  call  it.  She 
must  be  coming  down  to  see  me — I  dare  say 
I  shall  receive  a  telegram  any  moment." 

Presently  in  came  a  number  of  fellows,  and 
later  on  Keith  in  his  ordinary  clothes  entered. 
And  Austin,  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  told 
them  about  the  beautiful  apparition,  enlarging 


262  Yale  Yarns. 

upon  her  beauty  and  style  until  they  could  with 
difficulty  keep  from  laughing. 

"  It  's  because  you  are  so  hipped  on  a  girl 
you  think  you  see  one  behind  every  bush !  " 
laughed  his  chum.  "  I  believe  you  're  going 
crazy." 

"  But  Tutor  Blinky  saw  her  !  " 

"  He  must  have  seen  my  aunt  and  cousin  who 
came  up  to  see  me  just  that  very  moment," 
promptly  spoke  up  Johnson,  who  was  in  the 
plot,  and  who  roomed  in  the  same  entry.  They 
all  agreed  that  Austin  had  had  a  strange  hallu 
cination  and  his  chum  suggested  that  he  have  a 
doctor  at  once. 

Then,  a  few  moments  later,  a  messenger  boy 
brought  a  telegram  which  read  : 

"Richard  B.   Aldrich,  Yale  College. 
"  Will  be  down  on  the  evening  train.     Please  meet  me. 

"  Bessie." 

"  Well,"  said  Aldrich.  That  is  strange ! 
She  has  "  projected  "  herself  into  your  mind, 
Billy  !  "  The  telegram  is  dated  Hartford.  At 
all  events,  we  '11  find  out  to-night  if  she  has 
been  here  this  afternoon, — ^and  of  course,  she 
has  n't.  You  have  heard  me  speak  of  her  a 


A  Violent  Remedy.  263 

good  many  times  ? — what  a  splendid  girl  she  is, 
and  all  that,  and  I  Ve  told  her  of  you,  and  per 
haps  she  thought  of  you  and  me  to-day, — see  ? 
You  can  ask  her  when  she  comes  if  she  was 
thinking  of  you  about  three  o'clock.  It 's  quite 
a  mystery, — but  people  who  believe  in  telepathy 
and  that  sort  of  thing  say  it 's  commoner  than 
is  supposed." 

It  was  odd  how  every  one  else  in  the  room 
concurred  in  what  Laze  said.  Austin  began  to 
doubt  his  own  senses. 

After  they  had  all  gone,  and  as  they  were 
preparing  to  go  out  to  afternoon  recitation, 
Austin  said  : 

"  It 's  queer  I  never  had  an  hallucination 
about  Fanny  Gowrer,  or  Kate  Flemming  or  the 
others." 

"That's  because  they  never  cared  for  you." 

"  But  Bessie ?  " 

"  She  's  heard  a  good  deal  about  you,  Adol- 
phus — I  Ve  told  her  a  lot.  Who  knows  but 
the  dear  girl  has  been  cherishing  your  image  in 
her  secret  heart  !  She  saw  your  photo  once  at 
home,  I  remember, — and  she  said,  '  That 's  a 
damn  fine  looking  chum  of  yours,' — or  words 
to  that  effect," 


264  Yale  Yarns. 

"  I  hope  Bessie  does  n't  swear  !  "  exclaimed 
Austin  astonished. 

"  Well,  she  used  some  sort  of  girl's  lingo, — I 
think  she  really  said,  '  He  looks  like  an  opera 
tenor  singer/ — that 's  their  ideal,  you  know. 
Oh,  she  in  her  tender  young  heart  has  quietly 
learned  a  good  deal  about  you,  Adolphus, — and, 
I  dare  say " 

"  What  rot !  " 

"  I  dare  say  she  has  scribbled  your  name  all 
over  her  Fasquelle, — as  girls  will, —  you  know 
it 's  a  way  they  have  !  " 

"  Absurd  !  " 

But  it  was  evident  that  Adolphus  was  secretly 
very  well  pleased  with  the  idea. 

They  walked  over  to  the  recitation  room  in 
silence, — Austin  meditating  upon  the  surprising 
events  of  the  afternoon.  Just  before  they  en 
tered,  he  said :  "  Forgive  me,  old  man,  but 
when  she  comes  to-night,  and  you  happen  to 
speak  of  me, — I — I  would  n't  say  anything 
about  the  Gower  matter, — eh  ?" 

«  No, — certainly  not !  " 

"And, — do  caution  Miss  Bessie  on  going 
about  alone, — er — er — Very  odd  about  her 
'  counterfeit  presentment ' — was  n't  it !  I  don't 
think  I  could  have  been  asleep  ?  " 


A  Violent  Remedy.  265 

And  Aldrich  gave  him  an  understanding 
glance,  as  they  entered  recitation.  "  I  see,"  he 
said,  "  you  think  if  it  was  not  a  dream  it  was 
highly  improper?" 

"  Oh,  no— but— " 

"  Well  I  will  see  that  she  is  properly  chap 
eroned " 

Bessie  duly  arrived  that  night,  was  properly 
introduced  to  Austin,  and  for  the  week  follow 
ing  met  him  by  appointment  each  evening,  and 
took  the  most  entrancing  moonlight  drives  with 
him  and  "  Cousin  Dick,"  explaining  that  she 
was  visiting  people  in  New  Haven,  who  were 
dead  opposed  to  romance  and  extremely  strict, 
and  who,  in  fact,  forbade  students  the  house. 
The  affair  had  such  a  strange  beginning  for 
Austin,  and  was  kept  up  under  such  odd, 
romantic  circumstances,  with  such  mysterious 
meetings,  and  Bessie  showed  so  much  feeling 
for  him,  (she  had,  however,  not  yet  allowed  him 
to  kiss  her)  that  his  wicked  chum  was  able  to 
report  that  Fanny  Gower's  name  had  not  been 
mentioned  since  the  day  of  the  apparition  ! 
The  ingenuity  of  Little  Jack  Horner  was  exer 
cised  to  invent  all  sorts  of  charming  and  fasci 
nating  stories  about  Bessie.  How  she  had 
saved  her  aged  grandfather  from  a  burning 


266  Yale  Yarns. 

fate,  in  a  country  house  ;  how  she  once  caught 
a  burglar,  and  how  she  had  saved  many  a  poor 
little  newsboy's  life  from  a  passing  express 
wagon.  Bessie  herself  so  arranged  and  ordered 
it  that  at  last  he  confessed  he  loved  her,  with 
an  audience  of  four  or  five  delighted  Juniors  in 
hiding.  Poor  Adolphus  was  fairly  caught  in 
the  trap! 

"  But,— Mr.  Austin,— I  've  heard,— a  little 
bird  has  told  me  that  there  is  another." 

"  You  allude  to  Fanny  Gower?  I  assure  you, 
Bessie, — that  affair  is  all  over." 

They  stood  together  beneath  a  gas-lamp,  on 
Whalley  Avenue,  where  they  had  just  alighted 
from  their  open  phaeton. 

"  But  I  come  to  you, — Adolphus — without  a 
'  first '  affair." 

"  I  know, — but  really,  I  find  I  never  cared 
for  Fanny — it  was  a  momentary, — a  foolish 
episode.  I  repent  of  it, — deeply." 

(Subdued  applause  behind  a  clump  of  trees  !) 

"  You  must  wait.  I  can't  say  that  you  are 
altogether  repugnant  to  me.  I  can't  deny, 
dear,  you  have  an  awfully  winning  way  !  " 

"Dear  Bessie!" 


A  Violent  Remedy.  267 

"  But  on  next  Friday  night, —  I  shall  be  at 
the  Joint  theatricals.  Until  then  you  must 
wait, — and  not  see  me.  I  expect  to  be  busy. 
Tell  me  that  night  if, — you — still  love  me, — 
and  write  me  in  the  care  of  Cousin  Dick  every 
day." 

"  And  you  '11  give  me  a  kiss  to  remember  you 
till  then  ? — that 's  four  days  off,  Bessie  !  " 

"  No  !  I  never  kissed  a  man  in  my  life."  And 
this  of  course  was  strictly  true. 

"  Oh,  Bessie  !  " 

Austin  grasped  her  in  his  arms  and  tried  to 
kiss  her,  but  received  a  powerful  slap  which 
sent  him  reeling.  Then  Bessie  turned  and 
walked  rapidly  off  in  the  darkness.  She  was 
on  her  dignity. 

"  Gad  ! — what  a  muscle  that  girl  has  got !  " 
exclaimed  poor  Adolphus,  ruefully.  "  These 
modern  athletic  girls  are — are  easily  capable  of 
taking  care  of  themselves  !  " 

During  the  ensuing  four  days  Austin  was  in 
despair. 

The  strict  relatives  were  stricter  than  ever 
and  Bessie  could  not  be  seen  at  all. 

Aldrich  told  his  chum  that  he  was  afraid 
Bessie,  who,  he  said,  had  been  most  properly 


268  Yale  Yarns. 

brought  up,  probably  hated  him  on  account  of 
his  impudence  in  asking  her  for  a  kiss.  Adol- 
phus  wrote  her  two  love-letters  a  day,  (Aldrich 
kept  these  under  lock  and  key  and  brought  them 
out  occasionally  afterward  to  a  roomful  of  fel 
lows  when  Austin  was  not  present)  and  more 
mawkish,  foolish  love-letters,  no  son  of  Eli  ever 
wrote  in  his  life.  Here  are  a  few  specimens  : 

"  Dearest  Bessie  :  — 

"  Forgive  me,  darling,  for  being  too  lov 
ing.  I  fear  you  are  of  a  cold,  icy  nature, — your  heart  only 
beats  once  every  half  hour.  Let  me  tell  you, — you  don't  be 
gin  to  understand  what  a  man  is  made  of,  etc.  etc." 

"  DARLING  BESSIE  : — 

"  You  are  the  only  girl  I   could   ever 

feel  that  I  truly  loved.  The  spirits  had  something  to  do  with 
our  first  acquaintance, — and  the  gods  on  Olympus  now  call 
joyfully  to  one  another  and  say,  'another  mortal  pair  are 
made  immortal. '  My  chum  tells  me  that  you  have  a  headache 
to-day  ; — do  be  careful  about  wet  feet,  won't  you?  etc.,  etc., 
...  I  long  for  Friday  night  to  come, — and  then  I  shall  see 
you  again.  You, — you  only  shall  I  see !  Will  you  be  in  a 
box  ?  How  I  wish  we  could  sit  side  by  side. 

ADOLPHUS." 

Bessie's  letters  were  full   of  repression  and 
caution : 

"  MY  DEAR  ADOLPHUS:  — 

"  You  must  try  not  to  over  love 

me.  Go  slow,  old  man.  The  first  thing  I  know,  you  '11  do 
yourself  some  injury.  You  're  a  terribly  knowing  young  man, 


A   Violent  Remedy.  269 

— and  the  idea  of  wanting  to  kiss  me  on  a  public  avenue  ! 
Oh,  Adolphus  !  you  must  be  more  careful.  You  must  reform. 
Are  you  sure  you  are  through  with  that  Gower  girl  ?  Don't 
you  really  care  for  her  any  longer  ?  If  you  do,  I  shall  never 
speak  to  you  again,  never,  never  ! 

"B. 

"  P.S.  N.B.  I  shan't  be  in  a  box  Friday  night,  but  in  a 
stew,  you  can  believe,  dear." 

"  DEAR  ADOLPHUS  : — 

"  Your   last    was   a    corker  !      As   a 

lover,  you  are  too  over  sure.  You  say  you  never  cared  for  a 
girl  before  Fanny  Gower, — I  say  you  never  have  cared  for  one 
since  !  Be  more  circumspect  ; — don't  write  my  name  all  over 
your  text  books.  Remember,  and  see  me  Friday  night. 

11  P.S.  N.B.  The  next  time  you  see  me, — it  won't  be  in  a 
carriage, — but  a  stage  ! 

"B." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Adolphus  wondered 
a  great  deal  at  these  enigmatical  and  mystifying 
postscripts ! 

At  last  the  night  of  the  Joint  play  came 
around.  The  fashionable  daughter  of  a  tremen 
dously  rich  banker,  as  the  pretty  girl  of  the 
piece,  made  a  great  hit  in  the  comedy  played, 
and  no  one  in  all  the  audience  was  hit  harder 
than  Austin,  who,  in  evening  dress,  occupied  a 
seat  in  the  front  row  of  the  gallery. 

"  Why,  they  Ve  got  a  real  girl — Bessie  Al- 
drich — in  the  daughter's  part  !  "  he  said,  sur 
prised,  as  she  came  on  in  the  first  act. 


270  Yale  Yarns. 

"Yes,"  said  Little  Jack  Horner,  next  to  him. 
"  We  had  to  call  in  a  little  outside  talent." 

"  But  it  says,  '  Belinda— T.  W.  Keith/  That 's 
Tom  Keith  !  " 

"  Oh,  that 's  a  blind  !  "  laughed  Aldrich  on 
the  other  side.  "  She  did  n't  want  to  let  every 
fool  in  the  audience  know  she  was  n't  a  student." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Adolphus,  thoughtfully. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  laughed  Little  Jack  Horner. 

"  So  they  got  Bessie  to  act — Well !  Is  n't 
she  lovely  !  Why  did  n't  she  tell  me  f  " 

"  Kept  it  as  a  surprise,"  said  Aldrich. 

"  Oh — I  see  !  "  said  Austin  slowly,  and  then 
he  added  :  "  By — Jehoshaphat  !  Jinks  !  " 

Adolphus  Austin  fastened  his  eyes  on  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  the  rich  banker  in  ap 
parently  utter  entrancement.  At  the  first  in 
termission,  he  hastened  out,  was  gone  some 
time  and  brought  in  with  him  a  huge  bouquet 
of  flowers.  He  then  fastened  his  card  on  the 
handle,  and  threw  it  full  at  Bessie,  when  she 
came  on  the  stage,  in  the  second  act. 

The  bouquet  struck  her  full  in  the  chest  and 
floored  her.  It  was  flung  as  hard  as  an  angry 
and  sorely  deceived  man  could  fling  it, — and  it 
was  largely  made  up  of  a  heavy  cabbage. 


A  Violent  Remedy.  -271 

Bessie  sat  down  rather  hard  in  the  middle  of 
the  stage  and  gazed  at  the  crowded  and  noisy 
house  in  amazement,  and  at  Austin  in  particular^ 
with — 

"  Oh,  Adolphus ! — how  could  you  be  so 
rude  !  "  and  then  there  were  roars  of  laughter. 

On  the  card  Austin  had  written  hastily,  the 
lines  from  Byron, 


I  only  know  we  loved  in  vain, 

I  only  feel, — Farewell  !     Farewell !  " 

— ADOLPHUS. 


At  the  dinner  they  gave  Austin,  to  soothe  his 
wounded  vanity  and  to  laugh  the  thing  over 
with  fizz,  Austin  said  seriously,  "  I  am  cured  of 
ever  wanting  to  speak  to  another  girl  as  long 
as  I  live ; — boys,  you  've  done  the  trick. 
Henceforth  I  'm  a  misogynist !  " 

But  the  very  next  summer  vacation  Adolphus 
changed  his  mind. 


-CHUMS   OVER    IN    OLD   SOUTH." 

IT  was  a  raw  winter's  night,  and  Paige  drew 
the  curtains  close,  and  told  his  father  to  take 
the  easy  chair  in  the  corner  by  the  somewhat 
chilly  comfort  of  the  radiator.  His  father  was 
up  from  New  York  on  some  mysterious  Senior 
Society  errand  into  which  his  son,  then  a  Junior, 
dared  not  pry,  and  they  were  sitting  after  dinner 
around  the  lamp  over  their  cigars,  and  tiny 
glasses  of  Benedictine,  a  bottle  of  which  delect 
able  liqueur,  covered  with  curious  labels,  the 
old  grad.  had  brought  up  with  him  as  a  gift. 

A  number  of  fellows  dropped  into  the  room, 
and  "  Boots  "  presented  them,  one  by  one,  to 
"  my  father,  Colonel  Paige,"  with  a  proud  air, 
for  the  old  grad.  was  a  fine  looking,  gray  haired 
old  veteran,  with  an  armless  sleeve.  "  Little 
Jack"  Horner  came  in  and  amused  the  Colonel 
immensely  with  the  account  of  how  he  "  pushed 
his  exam,  papers  all  over  the  block"  in  mathe 
matics  that  day,  and  in  the  same  breath  dis- 
272 


"Chu ms  over  in  Old  South."       273 

cussed  with  Barrington  what  sort  of  a  "  push  " 
was  out  to  Miss  Gradley's  dance  the  night  be 
fore  ; — "  Great  "  contending  that  the  Gradleys 
were  "  smooth  people."  And  Aldrich  moaned 
because  he  feared  he  'd  "  pinched  "  a  condition 
in  logic,  and  Little  Jack  told  him  to  "  jolly"  Prof. 
Harker  more.  And  they  talked  of  "  digs  "  and 
"  greasy  grinds  "  and  Dwight  Hall  heelers,  and 
the  new  style  "  long  cheer,"  and  what  a  "  daisy 
peach  "  they  saw  crossing  Chapel  Street  as  they 
came  over  to  the  room,  and  Paige  said  it  was 
time  to  "  horse  to  likker,"  (referring  to  the  Bene 
dictine)  and  advised  Little  Jack  not  to  mon 
key  with  the  townies  down  on  Church  Street  or 
the  muckers  would  "  push  in  his  little  mug  un 
til  they  bent  his  back  teeth  in  a  scrap  with 
them."  All  this  jargon  the  old  grad.  listened  to 
with  a  most  mystified  and  indulgent  expression, 
and  his  son  felt  called  upon  to  translate, — but 
did  n't. 

Little  Jack  looked  at  the  armless  sleeve  a 
moment,  curiously. 

"  I  wish  we  'd  been  in  Yale  during  the  war," 
he  said.  "  I  understand  whole  classes  enlisted, 
— that  the  students  drilled  every  day  on  the 

campus,  and  that  you  lost  more  men  after  Bull 
il 


274  Yale  Yarns. 

Run  and  Shiloh  and  Antietam  than  we  did  after 
freshman  annual." 

"  Yale  did  her  part  in  the  war,"  said  Colonel 
Paige.  "  And  there  should  be  a  Memorial  Hall 
built  to  our  dead  heroes, — as  there  is  at  Cam 
bridge." 

"  I  '11  be  one  of  ten  thousand  to  subscribe  one 
dollar,"  said  Little  Jack.  "  It  's  all  the  mon 
I  own  at  present." 

"  Father  could  tell  you  a  story,"  said  Boots, 
looking  at  his  governor,  questioningly. 

"  A  story  !  A  war  story  !  "  cried  Little  Jack, 
eagerly.  "  Let  us  have  it  Colonel. — 

"  Oh, — nonsense.  I  must  be  going  in  a  min 
ute,"  said  the  Colonel,  looking  at  his  watch. 

"  Father, — I  wish  they  could  hear  it,"  urged 
Paige. 

"  Oh, — I — it 's  too  soon  after  dinner,  my 
boy." 

And  the  Colonel  puffed  out  a  huge  ring  of 
smoke. 

"  See  here,  Colonel  Paige — "and  Hornerdrew 
his  fat  little  body  up  to  his  full  height  before 
him.  "  Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  escape 
from  this  room, — with  an  untold  tale  concealed 
about  your  person  ?  " 


"Chums  over  in  Old  South!'        275 

"  Ho\v  dare  you  bulldoze  an  entire  stranger 
this  way !  "  laughed  the  Colonel,  with  a  most 
amiable  smile. 

"  Ah, — but  you  're  not  an  entire  stranger," 
said  Little  Jack  quickly,  looking  at  the  arm 
less  sleeve. 

The  Colonel  laughed.  Then  he  said,  out  of 
nothing,  "  With  all  your  queer  lingo, — and  your 
most  amazing  slang  ever  invented  on  the  face 
of  the  earth, — I  don't  see, — but  what, — but 
what  you  are  just  counterparts  of  the  boys  back 
in  the  '6os.  Mr.  Harrington,  you  would  do  very 
well  for  Jim  Hay  wood, — we  were  chums  over 
in  old  South." 

"  There, — go  on,  Governor  !  "  exclaimed 
Paige,  eagerly. 

"  Just  let  your  side  whiskers  come  out,  and 
your  hair  grow  long  as  your  foot-ball  eleven 
does,  and  wear  doe  cloth,  and  cloth  gaiters  and 
long  boots,  and  you  will  do  for  Jim.  Fashions 
change.  Yale  boys  are  about  the  same,  I  guess, 
after  all." 

"  Go  on, — Jim  Haywood, — father,"  urged 
Boots. 

There  was  a  little  pause  and  the  Colonel, 
eyeing  his  son  laughingly,  began  : 


276  Yale  Yarns. 

11  Well,  if  you  boys  want  it,  here  goes.  As 
I  said,  Jim  Haywood  was  my  chum  over  in 
South.  "  Old  South  "  is  gone  now  in  more 
senses  than  one,  so  is  poor  Jim.  He  was  a 
southerner  from  Savannah.  When  the  war 
broke  out  he  left  college,  and  was  present  at 
the  firing  on  Fort  Sumter. 

"  He  joined  Lee's  army  in  Virginia  and  I  was 
in  McClellan's  second  corps  in  the  Peninsula. 
(Looks  at  his  watch.)  Suffice  it  to  say  that  in 
'62,  in  July,  after  the  battle  of  Gaines  Mill,  I 
volunteered  for  scout  duty  along  the  Chicka- 
hominy,  and  so  reported  to  General  Hancock, 
in  person. 

"  We  called  ourselves  scouts,  but  as  we  did 
not  do  our  work  in  uniform  we  were  practically 
spies.  You  see,  I  got  tired  of  camp  life  and 
volunteered  to  this  extra  duty  for  the  fun  of  it, 
and  for  a  few  months  I  enjoyed  enough  excite 
ment  to  last  me  a  lifetime." 

A  number  of  fellows  dropped  in.  Little 
Jack  bade  them  to  be  quiet,  be  seated  and 
listen,  and  the  Colonel  continued. 

"  One  dark,  misty  night  in  August,  '62,  I  was 
trying  to  pass  the  picket  line  the  Johnnies  had 
stretched  along  from  Bethesda  Church,  over  by 


" Chums  over  in  Old  South."         277 

McGee's  house,  in  so'eastern  Virginia,  you 
know,  in  the  valley  of  the  Chickahominy.  I 
was  returning  from  a  three  weeks'  sojourn  in 
rebel  lines,  and  had  several  maps  sewed  in  my 
boots,  and  some  important  memoranda.  I  was 
in  my  peddler's  disguise, — carried  a  pack  and 
wore  a  gray  coat,  and  meal-bag  trousers,  and 
slouch  hat,  and  was  armed  with  a  '  lead  stick,' 
and  had  '  iron  in  my  boot,'  as  they  say  ;  that  is 
one  revolver,  and  a  loaded  cane." 

"  I  got  through  the  rebel  lines  without  much 
difficulty  by  dodging  the  pickets,  and  made  my 
way  along,  cross  lots,  with  the  aid  of  a  pocket 
compass,  under  the  glass  of  which  I  pressed  a 
firefly  ;  I  was  beginning  to  lose  that  nervous, 
dreadful  feeling  I  always  had  when  crossing  the 
lines,  and  was  congratulating  myself  on  getting 
through  to  the  Union  Army  before  daylight. 
I  used  to  hate  daylight !  (And  right  here  let  me 
advise  any  of  you  lads,  if  you  want  real  honest 
excitement,  study  to  be  professional  burglars, 
I  Ve  often  thought  of  it  !)  I  used  to  have  to 
hide  in  hay-mows,  or  in  old  barns,  or  in  the 
swampy  woods  all  day,  and  the  mosquitoes 

were you    have  no  idea  !     But   at   night   I 

could   find   my  way  anywhere.     I   was  young 


278  Yale  Yarns. 

and  loved  the  excitement  then,  and  stood  to 
lose  my  life  twenty  times  a  day  without  once 
losing  my  nerve. 

"  I  was  making  my  way  through  a  piece  of 
swamp  and  I  heard  suddenly  the  word,  Halt  ! 
and  a  report  and  blinding  flash  of  fire  followed. 
Luckily  I  was  not  hit.  I  quickly  threw  myself 
behind  a  stump  and  sank  in  the  mire  of  a  deep 
pool,  and  there  I  waited.  I  think  it  was  half 
an  hour  I  sat  in  water  up  to  my  waist  in  sus 
pense  ;  then  I  slowly  rose  out  of  my  hole  and 
looked  about  me.  It  was  too  pitch  dark  to  see 
ahead  ten  feet, — but  I  did  n't  mind  the  darkness. 
I  did  mind  what  I  heard, — voices  in  low  tones 
not  a  dozen  yards  from  me  !  I  knew  the  John 
nies  were  searching  for  me.  Presently  they  lit 
a  lantern,  four  of  them.  I  could  have  killed 
two,  possibly,  but  I  did  n't  know  how  many 
more  were  hid  behind  the  trees,  and  I  thought 
best,  like  Brer  Fox,  to  lie  low  and  wait. 

"  Then  after  a  while,  I  groped  my  way,  flank 
ing  the  party  to  the  east,  and  got  to  the  edge  of 
the  open  wood,  and  then  it  was  all  up  with  me. 
A  party  of  at  least  fifty  Johnnies  were  camping 
around  a  fire  and  I  almost  ran  in  upon  them  ! 

"  I  hid  myself,  as  best  I  could  under  the  thick 


"  Chums  over  in  Old  South"         2  79 

bush.  Had  I  come  in  the  wrong  direction  ? 
Afterwards  I  discovered  that  the  little  con 
temptible  firefly  had  caught  the  needle  in  his 
left  wing  and  I  had  in  consequence  gone  west 
nor' west  instead  of  northeast.  I  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  enemy  ! 

"  I  skirted  the  wood  as  carefully  as  I  could, 
and  then  two  of  the  Johnnies  hidden  behind 
trees  jumped  up  and  seized  me.  At  first  I  pre 
tended  to  go  along  with  them  and  then  sud 
denly  knocked  one  of  them  down  and  made  a 
break  for  the  wood, — but  the  other  fellow  gave 
the  alarm,  fired  his  gun,  and  I  was  captured." 

"  I  told  my  story, — a  yarn  I  had  invented 
and  worked  a  dozen  times.  I  was  a  peddler 
going  to  Harper's  Ferry,  to  procure  some  cloth 
and  tobacco  for  soldiers'  use.  I  had  printed 
newspapers  with  my  ad.  in  it  which  I  showed 
them — I  was  a  Jew  haberdasher  at  Harper's 
Ferry.  '  Isaac  Helberstein  '  ;  but  my  story 
did  n't  seem  to  take. 

"  I  was  disarmed  and  searched  and  hurried 
to  camp.  I  knew  the  jig  was  up  when  they 
ripped  up  my  boots  and  found  a  map  of  some 
rebel  fortifications  around  old  Cold  Harbor  in 
them. 


280  Yale  Yarns. 

"  I  was  sent  with  a  detail  to  General  L — 's 
headquarters,  and,  after  a  drumhead  court- 
martial  was  ordered  to  be  shot  the  following 
day  but  one,  at  sunrise.  Then  I  was  remanded 
to  the  care  of  the  Captain  of  the  Company 
who  captured  me,  for  execution,  and  a  double 
guard  was  set  over  me  in  the  guard-house. 

"  '  The  jig  is  up,'  I  said  to  myself  all  the  next 
day,  *  and  all  because  of  a  firefly  !  '  The 
Johnnies  pitied  me  and  gave  me  tobacco  and 
some  whisky,  and  tried  to  make  my  last  day 
agreeable  ;  and,  as  I  was  pretty  weary,  I  en 
joyed  it  very  well.  Let  me  say  that  a  man 
who  is  in  health,  can  never  really  believe  he  's 
actually  going  to  die  ;  I  'm  certain  /  did  n't, 
that  twenty-third  day  of  August,  1862.  I 
laughed  and  joked,  and  made  the  Johnnies 
believe  that  the  war  would  n't  last  three 
months.  Death  did  n't  seem  so  extraordinary 
in  those  days  of  carnage  and  destruction.  I 
did  n't  feel  it  really  near  me.  I  wrote  a  dozen 
letters  to  my  mother,  to  my  sisters,  and  to  my 
sweetheart, — his  mother, — (looking  at  Paige 
with  affection).  I  wrote  to  old  Prex  Woolsey 
and  dear  Professor  Thacher,  detailing  the  facts 
of  my  capture, — hard  to  be  shot  as  a  spy,  you 


"Chums  over  in  Old  South."        281 

know,  and  not  have  a  chance  to  explain, — and 
yet  I  thought  of  Nathan  Hale,  too,  and  I  did  n't 
grieve,  or  complain.  It  was  the  chances  of 
war,  and  war  makes  a  new  atmosphere,  and 
we  get  used  to  it  once  we  are  in  it,  and  don't 
mind — and  if  death  comes,  it  comes  so  lightly 
and  easily  that  it  is  hardly  sad  or  a  calamity. 

"  The  night  passed.  I  thought  of  my  life  at 
college,  my  old  friends  I  'd  never  see  again — 
but  still  it  was  n't  so  mournful  as  you  'd  think. 
I  wondered  what  had  become  of  my  old  chum, 
Jim  Haywood, — I  thought  of  several,  too,  who 
had  been  killed, —  I  was  sure  I  'd  see  them. 
You  see,  dying  in  war  times  in  such  a  glori 
ous  company  of  the  heroic  dead,  is  quite  a 
different  thing  from  dying  now  in  peace.  I 
told  the  Johnnies  I  was  a  Yale  man.  One 
of  them  was  from  a  Virginia  university,  and 
we  became  quite  friendly.  They  asked  me 
many  questions  about  college  life, — about  the 
Wooden  Spoon  and  the  "  Bully,"  and  the  secret 
societies.  It  got  noised  abroad  all  over  the  rebel 
camp  that  a  Yale  man  was  going  to  be  shot  as 
a  spy,- — and  as  you  will  see,  my  acknowledging 
allegiance  to  dear  old  mother  Yale,  thus,  saved 
my  life. 


282  Yale  Yarns. 

"  The  night  passed  in  comfortable  sleep,  and 
dreams  of  home.  I  awoke  at  dawn  and  felt 
refreshed.  I  looked  out  at  the  glorious  sun 
rise — was  it  to  be  my  last  ?  The  morning  be 
gan  to  get  bright.  Presently  they  led  me  out 
to  the  edge  of  a  wood  in  a  little  field.  A 
chaplain  prayed  with  me, — I  wish  I  could  see 
that  good  man  again,  for  his  prayer  did  me 
lots  of  good, — it  was  so  long  that, — but  I 
must  n't  anticipate. 

"  They  blindfolded  my  eyes,  and  asked  me  if 
I  was  ready.  I  said  *  No,  a  man  is  never  ready 
to  die !  '  and  some  one  whispered,  *  Dick 
Paige,  at  the  volley  fall  forward  on  your  face ! 

"  '  How  am  I  to  know  which  side  I  '11  fall  on, 
you  fool  ? '  I  asked  sharply.  It  was  serious 
business  for  me  just  then,  and  I  thought  some 
Johnnie  was  laughing  at  me. 

"  '  You  fall  on  your  face  ! — Don't  you  remem 
ber  Jim?  We  were  chums  away  over  in  old 
South.  I'm  fore,  and  am  officer  in  charge.'' 

"  Then  he  went  aside,  and  I  understood. 

"  My  heart  stood  still  with  a  certain  absolute 
belief  that  Jim  Haywood, — my  old  chum  over 
in  South  was  going  to  save  my  life  in  some  way. 
Hope  sprang  up  again.  I  knew  Jim.  He  was 


* '  Ch  u ms  over  in  Old  South. "        283 

one  of  the  cutest  fellows  that  ever  lived.  I 
knew  that  if  any  one  could  interfere  between 
those  six  murderous  bullets  and  my  heart, — lie 
could.  As  I  stood  there,  hands  tied  behind  my 
back,  eyes  blindfolded, — seeing  the  red  through 
the  handkerchief,  the  red  of  the  hot,  rising 
sun, — I  was  as  sure  I  was  in  a  sort  of  farce  play 
as  I  was  when  he  and  I,  as  Freshmen,  were 
initiated  into  old  Alpha  Sigma  Phi, — They 
trained  blank  cartridges  on  us  there  in  college, 
— everything  went  to  gun-play  in  those  war 
times,  you  know  ;  I  just  trusted  Jim,  and  when 
they  asked  me  if  I  cared  to  say  anything,  I  was 
just  mean  enough  to  seize  my  advantage  and 
let  them  have  a  good,  stiff,  stump  speech  on 
the  wickedness  of  secession,  and  then  I  gave 
them  a  great  bluff  about  the  war's  being  over 
in  three  months  and  warning  them  to  come  in 
out  of  the  rain.  They  must  have  thought  me 
rather  cheeky  ! 

"  Well,  I  finished,  and  listened  to  Scripture 
and  the  last  prayer  of  the  chaplain,  and  was 
told  to  prepare  for  death.  I  said  I  was  ready, 
and  then  came  Jim's  sharp  command  :  ''Present 
ar-rums  !  Make  ready  ar-rnins  !  '  Then  the 
words  in  a  lower  tone, — but  I  could  hear  them 


284  Yale  Yarns. 

distinctly  in  the  silence — *  Aim  at  his  breast, 
Johnson.  All  aim  at  the  breast  of  the  poor 
devil — there, — ready, — fire  !  ' 

"  I  fell  forward  quickly  on  my  face,  and  lay 
still.  Was  Jim  Haywood  there?  Thank  God! 
Yes, — he  was,  because  I  was  still  alive  !  I  lay 
as  if  dead,  and  felt  a  blanket  thrown  over  me. 
In  some  way  Jim  had  drawn  those  bullets,  and 
prevented  the  surgeon  making  any  examina 
tion. 

"  Then,  after  a  little,  they  rolled  me  in  the 
blanket  and  carried  me  away  into  the  woods. 

"Then,  in  my  sensitive  ear,  I  heard  Jim's 
voice  again  :  '  We  are  to  bury  you,  Dick,  under 
a  foot  of  earth.  I  '11  put  a  musket  barrel  down 
to  your  mouth,  don't  fret.' 

"  Then  they  rolled  me  into  my  grave  and  I 
felt  the  earth  falling  over  me,  and  all  was  very 
dark  and  dismal,  I  can  tell  you  !  I  was  nearly 
suffocated  before  Jim  got  his  tube  so  as  it 
would  work.  I  suppose  he  had  to  be  very 
wary  of  the  guard  ;  but  at  last  he  got  it  in 
place,  and  what  's  more,  later  on,  poured  some 
very  comforting  whisky  into  my  mouth,  which 
nearly  strangled  me  at  first,  because  I  was  n't 
expecting  it.  But  it  was  grateful,  I  can  tell 


"Chums  over  in  Old  South"         285 

you.  One  of  the  most  blessed  drinks  I  ever 
took  in  my  life,  because,  lying  in  my  grave  that 
way,  so  cold,  so  dark,  so  immovable, — the  fear 
began  to  steal  over  me  that  perhaps  I  was  really 
dead,  after  all !  Perhaps  I  had  only  been  dream 
ing  that  my  old  chum  Jim  Hay  wood  had  whis 
pered  to  me,  and  they  had  buried  me,  and  this 
was  death  !  I  no  sooner  got  out  of  that  worry 
than  I  began  to  think  I  'd  been  buried  alive  on 
purpose, — some  fiendish  plan  to  torture  my  life 
out  by  slow  degrees.  Were  you  ever  buried  ?  " 

The  Colonel  turned  to  one  or  two  fellows  in 
the  room,  who  laughed. 

"Well,  it  's  unutterably  horrible,  that  's  all 
I  can  say.  Creeping,  slimy  worms  crawl  over 
your  face,  and  try  to  burrow  under  your  eye 
lids,  and  ugh  !  into  your  ears.  You  can't  move. 
I  imagined  they  were  writhing  and  creeping 
into  my  very  brain.  I  thought  I  should  shriek 
with  the  horror  of  it  as  that  awful  day  went 
on; — then,  thank  God,  came  the  whisky,  and 
I  got  my  head  loose  in  the  earth  so  I  could 
twist  it.  I  could  n't  hear  a  sound  except  the 
tread  of  feet  on  the  ground — feet  going  and 
coming  endlessly.  The  boom-boom  rumble  of 
a  heavy  gun-carriage, — the  cannonading  of 


286  Yale  Yarns. 

horses'  feet, — the  march  of  infantry, — the  light 
footsteps  of  some  one  running.  Oh,  what  a 
dreadful  day  that  was  !  and  I  lay  stark  and 
stiff,  biting  the  end  of  a  musket  barrel  for 
breath  ! 

"  Over  and  again  through  my  head,  I  remem 
ber,  ran  the  verses  in  Maud, — we  knew  Tenny 
son's  Maud  by  heart  when  I  was  in  college,  and 
swore  by  it : 

'  Dead,  long  dead.     Long  dead  ! 

And  my  heart  is  a  handful  of  dust, 
And  the  wheels  go  over  my  head 

And  my  bones  are  shaken  with  pain, 
For  into  a  hollow  grave  they  are  thrust  ! ' 

"  Then  in  the  afternoon  I  grew  very  tired 
and  weary,  and  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  feel  the 
swing  of  the  earth  as  it  rolled  in  space,  and  I 
felt  myself  getting  lighter  and  lighter  and  rising 
in  the  air;  and  it  seemed  as  if  I  hung  a  distance 
above  my  grave,  and  looking  down  saw  the  sol 
diers  marching  past.  Then  Jim  must  have  got 
some  whisky  down  the  tube,  for  I  felt  myself 
drawn  down  to  earth  again,  and  amid  unutter 
able  pain  and  anguish  I  re-entered  my  body, — 
and  lived. 

"  Of  the  two   experiences,  dying  is  not  half 


"Chums  over  in  Old  South."        287 

so  hard  to  endure  as  coming  back  to  conscious 
ness  and  taking  up  again  the  thread  of  life, — 
Nothing  has  so  clearly  demonstrated  to  my 
mind  the  presence  of  a  soul  in  the  body,  a  ten 
ant  outside  of  brain,  tissue,  flesh,  and  blood, 
who  at  death  is  released  and  escapes.  I  say 
that  is  the  conscious  feeling.  I  also  felt  great 
expansion, — freedom,  and  coming  back  to  my 
body,  and  its  trivial  life  seemed  narrowing 
and  belittling  to  me. 

"  That  night  Jim  and  his  faithful  negro  ser 
vant,  whom  I  afterwards  got  installed  in  South 
as  a  sweep, — do  any  of  you  remember  Alston  ? 
— dug  me  up,  resurrected  me,  and  revived  me 
with  food  and  whisky.  I  lay  an  hour  on  the 
ground  sick  and  faint  and  unable  to  move, 
holding  Jim's  hand,  while  he  whispered  about 
old  times  on  the  fence  and  on  the  campus,  and 
tried  to  cheer  me  up  and  get  me  on  my  feet. 
I  had  a  long  way  to  walk  that  night,  as  you 
may  believe. 

"  '  Why,  old  boy  !  it  was  not  half  so  bad  as 
the  Freshman  initiation  into  Alpha  Sigma  Phi,' 
said  Jim  ;  '  and  don't  you  remember  the  Fresh 
man  we  buried  in  the  campus,  and  Professor 
Brown  caught  us  ? ' 


288  Yale  Yarns. 

" '  I  'd  rather  be  shot  again  than  buried 
again,'  I  said  feebly.  '  A  bullet  is  more  merci 
ful  than  a  grave.' 

"  I  lay  down  on  the  ground  behind  a  tree, 
while  Alston  and  Jim  went  to  work  filling  up 
the  grave  again.  While  they  were  at  it,  we 
heard  the  clattering  of  horses'  hoofs  and  an  offi 
cer  rode  up. 

"'What  are  you  doing  in  that  hole?'  he 
asked  in  a  thick,  drunken  voice.  '  Has  any  one 
(hie)  been  body-snatching  round  yere  ?  ' 

"  *  No,  Major,'  said  Jim.  'We  received  or 
ders  to  re-examine  the  clothes  of  the  spy  who 
was  shot  this  morning,  and  search  for  further 
despatches,  that 's  all.' 

"  The  Major  leapt  off  his  horse.  '  Curse  the 

d d  Yankee  spy ! '  he  growled,  drawing  his 

sword,  and  stabbing  in  the  loose  earth  to  the 
hilt,  where  I  had  lain.  Somehow,  the  blade 
slipping  through  the  miry  earth  seemed  to  me 
to  be  slipping  through  my  very  body  also,  and 
I  closed  my  eyes  in  horror,  and  faintness. 

"  The  Major  wiped  his  blade  with  some  leaves. 

1  Curse  the  d d  Yankee!'  he  said.  'The 

Federals  in  some  way  have  got  news  of  our 
movements  and  they  have  changed  their  lines.' 


"Chums  over  in  Old  South!'        289 

"  '  Well,  there  is  an  end  of  this  fellow  !  '  said 
Jim,  as  Alston  filled  up  the  grave  and  made  it 
even  with  the  surface. 

"  After  some  further  parley,  the  Major  finally 
took  himself  off,  and  when  all  \vas  quiet  again, 
I  got  up  and  brushed  the  dirt  from  my  hair  and 
clothes.  I  could  scarcely  stand,  and  Jim  Hay- 
wood  gave  me  a  long  pull  from  his  canteen  and 
some  scraps  of  bread  and  meat,  and  then  we 
moved  off  into  the  woods,  and  walked  along  in 
silence  for  an  hour. 

" '  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  parole  you 
will  go  home  and  leave  the  army  when  you  get 
back  inside  the  Federal  lines,'  said  Jim,  at 
last. 

"  '  I  can't,  Jim  ;  I  can't  leave  the  army  until 
my  time  is  up.' 

"'You  must  give  your  parole,  Dick!  It  is 
only  fair  to  me.  You  are  my  prisoner,  and 
either  you  give  me  your  word  that  you  will 
leave  the  Federal  army,  or  I  '11  march  you  back 
to  camp,  and  report  a  capture.  You  will  be 
sent  to  Andersonville  as  a  prisoner  of  war, — we 
won't  shoot  you  as  a  spy.  But  I  can't  let  you 
go  back  to  your  lines  and  fight  against  us  again. 

I  have  more  sense  of  honor  than  that.     That 
19 


290  Yale  Yarns. 

would  be  aiding  and  abetting  the  enemy  and 
not  merely  saving  the  life  of  a  friend.' 

" '  I  '11  give  you  my  word,  Jim,  I  '11  never  do 
any  more  scouting.  I  Ve  done  with  that  !  ' 

" '  No,  that  's  not  enough.  I  counted  on 
your  giving  me  your  parole,  Dick.  It  is  only 
right.' 

" '  I  '11  agree  to  get  transferred  to  the  west 
ern  frontier ! ' 

"  '  No,  give  me  your  word  you  '11  go  home, 
or  I  '11  march  you  back  to  camp,  where  I  '11  see 
to  it  that  you  are  sent  a  prisoner  of  war  to 
Andersonville.  I  won't  let  them  shoot  you 
as  a  spy,  Dick ! ' 

"  *  Thanks,  Jim.  You  are  very  kind/  I  said. 
'  But  I  'm  in  the  fight  to  stay ! ' 

"  Then  we  sat  down  side  by  side  on  the  edge 
of  a  cornfield  and  argued  the  matter  for  half  an 
hour.  Neither  of  us  liked  to  give  in  then  any 
more  than  we  did  when  we  were  '  Brothers  '* 
together  at  Yale.  At  last  Jim  got  up  and  said 
sternly : 

"  *  There  is  another  way  to  settle  this  thing. 

*  The  Colonel  referred  to  one  of  the  two  famous  debating 
societies  at  Yale,  "  Brothers"  and  "  Linonia,"  which  ceased 
to  exist  in  1873. 


"Chums  aver  in  Old  South"        291 

If  you  won't  do  what  is  right  in  one  way, — you 
shall  in  another.  I  won't  shoot  an  unarmed 
man,  here,  take  this  pistol.  I  will  advance 
twenty  paces  and  then  turn  and  we  will  both 
commence  firing.  Whoever  survives, — Alston 
will  lead  safely  to  his  lines.  So  !  On  these 
terms  I  release  you  !  ' 

"  'Jim  !  '  I  cried,  as  he  handed  me  a  revolver. 
'  Do  you  think  I  can  try  to  kill  the  man  who 
has  just  saved  my  life  ?  Here,  shoot  me  if  you 
like, — I  cannot  and  will  not  fire  at  you  ?  ' 

"  He  hesitated  a  moment,  wavering ;  then 
said,  in  a  harsh  voice,  I  remember,  '  You  have 
my  final  terms!  '  Then  he  advanced,  counting 
off  his  ten  paces  in  the  open  field.  The 
feeble  moonlight  trickled  down  through  the  fine 
pine  branches  of  the  wood.  It  was  warm  and 
clear.  Far  off  I  could  hear  the  roll  of  the 
drums.  We  could  not  be  far  from  the  Federal 
lines.  I  felt  like  making  a  dash  for  liberty,  but 
I  was  too  weak  and  exhausted  with  that  long 
day's  suffocation  under  ground  to  attempt  it. 
Besides,  I  knew  that  to  Jim's  sense  of  South 
ern  chivalry,  such  conduct  would  seem  all  the 
more  cowardly  as  he  had  stated  the  terms  of 
my  release,  and  I  was  in  honor  bound  to  them. 


292  Yale  Yarns. 

So,  you  see,  I  just  stood  there  pistol  in  hand, 
looking  at  Jim. 

"  He  reached  his  twenty  yards,  stood  a  mo 
ment  his  back  to  me.  Alston  withdrew  behind 
a  pine,  out  of  danger. 

"  *  Make  ready,  Dick !  '  called  out  Jim.  *  I  'm 
going  to  shoot  !  ' 

" '  God  forgive  you  !  '  I  called  back  to  him, 
and  almost  immediately  he  turned  and  fired. 
The  first  ball  flew  over  my  head.  The  second 
grazed  my  shoulder.  I  looked  steadily  at  Jim, 
he  was  firing  blindly,  his  hand  over  his  eyes." 

"  He  fired  again  !  and  I  felt  a  sharp  sting  in 
my  left  arm. 

" '  For  God's  sake  !  shoot  at  me,  Dick !  '  he 
cried,  in  an  agonized  voice.  But  of  course  I 
refused.  In  another  instant  twenty  or  thirty 
men  seemed  to  leap  out  of  the  ground  and  sur 
round  us.  They  were  Union  soldiers, — the  4th 
of  Ohio, — and  my  life  was  saved  the  third  time 
that  day. 

"  Jim  made  a  show  of  fight,  but  was  captured 
and  we  were  all  taken  to  headquarters  at  once. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  I  represented 
to  General  Hancock  that  Jim  had  saved  my  life, 
and,  after  a  day  or  two,  through  my  intercession 


"Chums  over  in  Old  South"       293 

he  was  discharged  and  allowed  to  return  to  his 
regiment. 

"  I  never  could  bring  myself  to  speak  to  him 
again.  I  was  sorely  wounded  in  the  arm  and 
in  the  hospital — I  could  not  forgive  him  then 
and  requested  not  to  see  him  when  he  was  re 
leased.  Poor  Jim  Hay  wood  was  killed  in  the 
Wilderness  before  Richmond.  Later  on,  I  have 
come  to  regard  his  conduct  with  less  feeling  of 
anger  and  astonishment,  and  with  more  charity. 
In  his  Southern  nature  and  education,  he  had 
only  done  what  he  believed  to  be  the  honora 
ble  thing  to  his  cause  and  to  his  friend. 

"  The  result  of  his  third  shot, — combined 
with  a  surgeon's  bungling — principally  the  lat 
ter — I  carry  with  me  to  this  day—"  and  amid 
a  breathless  silence  the  Colonel  lifted  the  stump 
of  his  arm  and  let  it  fall. 

"  All  I  can  add  is  that  I  owe  my  life  to  my 
dear  old  Alma  Mater — and  to  Jim — my  old 
chum  over  in  South — Boys,  War  is  a  cursed  sort 
of  thing — and  a  war  between  friends  is — awful !  " 

Then  Colonel  Paige,  visibly  affected,  rose, 
buttoned  up  his  coat,  was  helped  on  with  his 
overcoat  and  hat,  and  shaking  hands  with  a 
number  of  Boots'  friends, — left  the  room. 


COMMENCEMENT, 

"  Some  back  from  the  threshold  shrink, 

As  loath  from  the  past  to  part, 
But  the  most  plunge  over  the  brink 
With  never  a  fear  at  heart." 

"  Then  silent  closes  the  door 

At  the  sound  of  the  last  old  chime, 
And  the  key, — for  evermore, 

Is  turned  by  the  keeper,  Time  !  " 

SCOLLARD. 

BEFORE  the  day  of  large  classes,  Commence 
ment  *  (so-called  because  it  comes  at  the  close  of 
the  college  year)  formerly  ended  the  four  years 
of  student  life  at  Yale  in  a  glory  of  scholastic 
furor  and  excitement.  It  was  a  sort  of  annual 
parade  of  the  learning  and  scholarship  of  every 
member  of  the  class.  Fifty  and  a  hundred  years 
ago  our  forefathers  debated  in  set  Latin  phrases, 

*  This  year  (1895)  marks  a  great  change  in  the  Yale  Com 
mencement  exercises.  Many  improvements  in  the  speaking 
have  been  made.  Music  is  now  a  greater  feature  of  the  pro 
gramme.  Commencement  is  now  to  be  made  a  pleasurable 
occasion. 

294 


Commencement.  295 

held  dialogues  in  Greek,  and  established  tre 
mendous  reputations  for  learning,  among  the 
open  eyed  and  astonished  audience  of  mothers, 
sisters,  cousins,  and  aunts  who,  through  the  long, 
hot  Commencement  Day,  heard  of  and  mar 
velled  at  the  heroes  of  Greece  and  Rome  and 
the  various  dignitaries  of  the  ancient  world, 
and  all  the  virtues  and  defects  of  the  pagans, 
with  hardly  an  allusion  to  the  stirring  life  about 
them. 

Among  many  of  the  smaller  rural  colleges 
the  custom  is  still  maintained  of  making  Com 
mencement  Day  an  annual  exhibit  of  students 
and  faculty.  The  latter  sit  in  solemn  state  up 
on  the  stage.  One  by  one,  in  all  the  garish 
light  of  day,  appear  the  pale  and  terrified  Sen 
iors,  in  evening  dress,  and  make  their  parting 
bow.  It  means  something  to  graduate  when 
one  may  be  overwhelmned  by  bouquets  and  see 
one's  relations  in  tears  over  an  eloquent  perora 
tion  upon  the  "  Age  of  Pericles."  There  is  a  keen 
excitement  in  seeing  one's  younger  brother,  at 
home  a  modest,  amusing,  and  unassumingyoung 
fellow  enough,  suddenly  displayed  before  an 
audience  as  a  defender  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  or 
a  patron  of  Washington.  At  Yale  it  comes  to 


296  Yale  Yarns. 

but  few  to  display  their  gifts  of  oratory.  All 
of  our  heroes,  excepting  the  good  Deacon 
Demarest  and  Averill,  received  their  degree  in 
batches  of  eight  or  ten  and  in  silence  or  amid 
the  warbling  of  a  brass  band.  Once  they  re 
ceived  their  "  sheep-skins,"  they  rushed  out  on 
the  green  in  boisterous  squads  and  fought  and 
tussled  for  the  precious  labels  of  scholarship — 
the  very  A.B.'s  of  the  real  life  to  come  ! 

Commencement  came  to  them  with  a  curious 
mingling  of  humor  and  sentiment, — bringing  a 
realizing  sense  of  desolate  partings,  and  the 
packing  of  dusty  books ;  of  farewells,  and  bar 
gaining  off  of  old  furniture  to  fresh  young  gentle 
men  of  rosy  cheeks  and  hopeful  tendencies  ;  of 
teas  and  dances  and  jollity,  and  dismal  prepara 
tions  to  leave  the  old  place  forever. 

It  seemed  quite  absurd  to  them  to  see  their 
familiar  classmates  fluttering  and  fussing  about 
among  the  "  queens  "  in  their  unfamiliar  black 
Oxford  gowns,  and  mortar  boards, — it  gave  them 
all  a  weird,  uncanny  look,  as  Miss  Kitty  Nelson 
oftimes  remarked.  Little  Jack  called  the  black 
gowns  shrouds,  and  went  about  in  his,  looking 
utterly  ridiculous,  but  sad  and  disconsolate, 
spoke  in  lowered  tones,  as  if  at  a  funeral. 


Commencement.  297 

The  proverbial  Commencement  weather,  of 
course,  was  "  hot,  hotter,  hottentottest,"  and 
the  Senior  Prom,  Glee  Club  concert,  and 
Harvard  ball  game,  and  Class  Histories  were 
enjoyed  in  a  state  of  pleasing  and  warm  ap 
preciation,  which  did  all  the  greater  credit  to 
their  remarkable  class. 

A  great  crowd  turned  out  on  the  Campus  to 
listen  to  4<  Little  Jack's  "  history,  and  it  was  suffi 
ciently  veracious  to  be  embodied  in  this  bundle 
of  stories  without  any  alteration.  Among  other 
matters,  he  told  of  the  bonfires  which  the  class 
had  built,  in  spite  of  the  faculty,  in  Soph.  year. 

"  In  the  spring  term  of  Soph,  year,"  he  said, 
"  the  faculty  issued  a  decree  that  there  should 
be  no  more  bonfires  started  on  the  Campus  in 
celebration  of  athletic  victories.  They  were 
afraid  of  injuring  the  grass  \Laughter\  ;  but  we, 
who  had  studied  phleebottomy  of  the  class  of 
Umpty  Three, — knew  that  a  bonfire  was  useful 
in  destroying  the  worms  on  the  elm  leaves,  and 
decided  to  have  one. 

"  The  ingenious  plan  was  suggested  by  no 
other  than  good  "  Deacon  "  Demarest  [Laugh 
ter}.  A  hundred  men  were  each  to  secretly  pro 
vide  themselves  with  a  box  or  a  barrel,  filled 


298  Yale  Yarns. 

with  hay  and  saturated  with  kerosene.  And 
then,  as  the  chapel  bell  struck  nine  o'clock,  each 
holder  of  barrel  or  box  was  to  run  at  top  speed 
to  a  certain  spot,  deposit  his  lignum  flamm<z, 
and  hurry  away  again  into  outer  darkness,  un 
recognized  by  friend  or  foe. 

"  This  was  done  as  the  chapel  bell  tolled  out 
the  hour,  that  night — From  out  the  darkness, 
flying  to  a  common  centre,  as  if  by  witchcraft, 
came  the  hundred  boxes  and  barrels,  and  soon 
a  noble  pile  was  the  result.  The  last  man  lit 
the  pile,  and  a  sheet  of  flame  roared  heaven 
ward,  which  drove  the  worms  into  their  holes 
forever — a  flame  which  the  faculty  could  not 
approach  and  molest,  so  fervent  was  the  heat — 
and  around  which  we  danced  until  the  morn, 
and  celebrated  our  victorious  team. 

"  Then  the  faculty  posted  a  second  edict, 
that  no  bonfires  should  be  built  in  the  College 
yard,  and  any  one  found  building  such  a  fire, 
should  be  forthwith  expelled  ! 

"  But  a  Princeton  victory  occurred  the  next 
week,  and  the  good  Deacon  was  quite  equal  to 
the  emergency.  An  old  disused  farm  wagon 
was  purchased  from  a  blacksmith,  and  under 
cover  of  night  was  loaded  with  most  excellent 


Commencement.  299 

tar  barrels, — yea,  verily,  the  load  of  tar  barrels 
reached  the  height  of  some  twenty  cubits  on 
the  wagon. 

"  Then  a  modest  but  stalwart  band  of  Dwight 
Hall  heelers  drew  the  wagon  to  the  Elm  Street 
entrance  on  the  Campus,  and  some  ingenious 
deacon  touched  the  affair  off  with  a  lighted 
match.  \^Laughter^\ 

11  Then,  as  quietly  as  possible,  they  ran  the 
wagon  in  on  the  Campus  and  tried  to  knock  off 
a  wheel,  so  that  it  should  not  thereafter  be  re 
moved  by  meddling  members  of  the  faculty, 
but  there  was  no  time  for  this — and  the  heelers 
had  to  fly  to  their  rooms,  and  leave  the  wagon 
to  its  fate. 

"  The  fire  got  well  going  ;  the  blaze  promptly 
reached  the  elm  branches  and  destroyed  what 
worms  were  left.  Then  the  fun  began.  You 
see, — it  wasn't  started  on  the  Campus.  And 
when  the  faculty  came  out  in  full  force  they 
could  accuse  no  one,  and  the  tutors  and  moni 
tors  tried  to  drag  the  wagon  out  of  the  yard. 
It  was  quite  as  warm  near  that  wagon  as  it  is 
here  to-day,  and  they  'd  try  to  drag  it  a  little 
way,  and  then  have  to  beat  a  retreat  in  a  half 
scorched  condition.  It  was  the  hottest  fire  I, 


300  Yale  Yarns. 

or  any  other  member  of  the  faculty,  ever  saw. 
I  assure  you  it  makes  the  temperature  rise  ten 
degrees  about  me  here,  to  read  this  yarn — but 
the  truth  of  history  must  prevail !  [Laughter.~] 

"  They  got  a  long  rope  and  dragged  the 
affair  across  the  yard  behind  the  buildings, 
toward  the  Art  School ;  then  they  found  that 
the  coppers  would  n't  let  them  carry  it  out  into 
Chapel  Street,  and  they  turned  it  around  and 
toted  it  along  towards  Alumni  Hall.  Then  a 
lot  of  students  got  hold  of  the  rope  and  they 
ran  the  bonfire  down  to  Durfee,  and  then  Pro 
fessor  Dribble  came  out  and  got  very  angry 
indeed,  and  ordered  it  pulled  over  to  the  Library 
and  out  into  High  Street.  So  over  there  it 
went, — a  wonder  it  did  n't  set  every  dormitory 
on  the  Campus  afire ! — And  when  last  seen,  it 
was  blazing  away  in  the  old  gym.  lot." 

"  Well,  the  faculty  gathered  in  a  lot  of  names, 
— but  the  testimony  all  went  to  show  that  the 
fire  was  not  built  on  the  Campus,  and  so  no 
one  of  the  Dwight  Hall  heelers  was  ever  pun 
ished.  [Laughter.]  They  changed  the  wording 
of  the  edict  next  day,  and  it  now  reads,  '  Any 
one  who  shall  assist  in  building  a  bonfire  on 
the  Campus,  or  bring  such  fire  upon  the  Cam- 


Commencement.  30 1 

pus,  shall  be  expelled.'  But  I  expect  that  in 
some  way  obscure  to  us  now,  future  students 
will  manage  to  evade  this  just,  yet  terrible  law." 

The  "  Crowd  "  played  a  final  joke  on  Little 
Jack  himself,  as  he  finished  his  history  and 
bowed  amid  the  applause  of  the  surrounding 
open-air  amphitheatre.  As  the  fat  little  chap 
stood  bowing  and  smiling  upon  the  platform, 
a  bouquet  was  thrown  to  him,  and,  as  he 
blushed  and  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  it  crept 
along  the  stage ;  he  stooped  for  it, — and  it  van 
ished,  amid  great  laughter !  One  of  the 
Crowd,  whom  he  'd  been  guying  more  or 
less  unmercifully,  had  tied  a  fish  line  to  the 
bouquet  with  a  nefarious  design  to  get  even. 
But  Little  Jack  merely  laughed  and  said  of  the 
bouquet,  "  Not  lost,  but  gone  before,"  and  was 
more  popular  than  ever. 

They  helped  plant  the  class  ivy  on  the  Library 
wall ;  they  chanted  the  Ivy  Ode,  a  graceful  ef 
fort  of  Barrington's ;  they  took  in  the  Art 
Reception,  and  danced  for  the  last  time  with 
some  of  the  pretty  girls,  but  they  left  early, 
voting  it  a  rather  melancholy  affair. 

They  attended  the  spread  in  Alumni  Hall. 
They  bade  farewell  to  everybody  and  every- 


302  Yale  Yarns. 

thing ;  then  they  gathered  on  the  fence  in  front 
of  Durfee,  with  Little  Jack  in  their  midst  and 
there  was  a  silent  smoke  together.  The  last 
smoke  as  undergrads. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  said  Barrington,  after  a 
long  silence,  "  when  we  roomed  up  on  York 
Street,  Paige,  how  the  name  *  Boots '  got  fitted 
onto  you  ?  The  Sophs,  broke  into  our  room 
and  made  you  and  me  stand  on  chairs  and  re 
cite  hymns,  and  the  only  hymn  you  could  think 
of  was : 

'  I  hear  those  boots,  those  b-b-b-boots 

A  coming  down  the  stairs, 
Fra  Diavolo, — the  Robber  ! 
Fra  Diavolo, — the  opera  ! ' 

"  We  all  took  it  up  as  a  class  song  afterward, 
and  a  good  one  it  is,  too.  Oh,  those  Freshman 
days  !  It  seems  a  long  while  ago,  now,  does  n't 
it  ?  I  wish  we  had  them  to  live  over  again. 
I  'm  sure  we  'd  be  better,  work  harder,  see  the 
advantages  of  study  /  " 

"Rats!"  said  several.  "We  Ve  done  very 
well  as  it  is.  We  Ve  not  been  dropped." 

"  I  would  n't  care,  if  we  were  all  going  to  be 
together  somewhere,"  said  Little  Jack,  mourn 
fully. 


Commencement.  303 

"We'll  all  go  up  to  New  London." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  world  's  yawning  for  us." 

"Yes,  if  it  's  half  asleep  it  is!"  said  Little 
Jack.  "  But  I  don't  think  the  world  intends  to 
be  caught  napping !  " 

How  silent  and  dark  the  buildings  looked  ! 
Most  of  them  seemed  to  have  already  donned 
their  vacation  habiliments  of  woe.  Lights 
glimmered  from  but  few  windows,  and  these 
presumably  of  some  weary  tutor  pursuing  the 
evanescent  and  illusive  "  average "  through  a 
mass  of  Sophomoric  examination  papers. 

The  moonlight  trickled  down  through  the  elm 
branches  on  the  turrets  and  towers  of  the  old 
library  and  the  mass  of  dormitory  and  old 
chapel  steeple, — its  mystic  influence  concealed 
the  defects,  the  architectural  blemishes  of  the 
rugged  brick  lines,  and  made  an  idealization 
possible  of  the  Yale  that  was  now  lost  to  them 
forever. 

The  Campus,  with  the  white  tent  in  front  of 
Alumni  Hall,  where  the  swarm  of  grads.  had 
encamped,  was  now  invaded  by  a  horde  of 
dusky  savages,  baggage  wagons,  and  a  sound 
of  rattling  plates.  To  add  to  the  mournfulness 


304  Yale  Yarns. 

of  the  scene,  a  dog  shut  up  in  some  upper 
room  in  Farnam,  made  night  hideous  with  his 
agonizing  howls. 

"  That  's  Elmer's  dog  *  Pat,'  "  said  Paige. 
"  He  's  gone  out  to  a  reception,  I  suppose,  and 
locked  Pat  in  his  room." 

Little  Jack  said  nervously,  "  I  hope  Elmer  is 
coming  back  soon."  He  edged  himself  up  on 
the  fence. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  small  wrhite  bull-ter 
rier  I  had  when  I  roomed  with  old  Waters,  in 
South  Middle,  Soph.' year?  Do  you  remember 
Fannie?  I  got  her  third  term  Freshman.  She 
was  a  thoroughbred  !  Somehow,  hearing  that 
dog,  I  keep  thinking  of  poor  little  Fannie,  the 
only  creature  I  think  I  ever  really  loved.  She 
lies  buried  here  in  the  Campus. 

"  She  could  do  no  end  of  tricks,  brought  me 
my  pipe,  my  slippers,  could  dance  on  her  hind 
legs.  I  thought  the  world  of  her,  little  beauty ! 
She  would  hear  my  whistle  and  run  to  me 
wherever  I  was.  How  well  I  remember  her 
short,  sharp  little  bark  !  She  fell  sick  and  I  fed 
her  her  meals  from  a  teaspoon.  She  would  n't 
let  any  one  else  feed  her.  I  watched  over  her 
and  nursed  her  to  life  again.  She  had  a  little 


Commencement.  305 

way  of  sitting  up  at  my  window  on  the  fourth 
story  in  South,  and  watching  for  me.  Poor 
little  Fan  ! 

"  *  Sport '  "  Waters  was  fond  of  her,  too,  in  his 
way, — she  was  a  first-class  ratter,  and  we  had 
some  fun  with  her  in  the  room.  When  she  got 
her  dander  up,  she  was  n't  afraid  of  anything 
in  the  world  !  She  knew  as  much  as  a  human 
being,  too  ;  she  saved  my  life  once,  waking  up 
and  barking  when  the  student  lamp  got  afire, 
and  my  bed  caught  and  would  have  burned  me 
alive.  Waters  was  out  and  I  fell  asleep,  read 
ing  in  bed.  Well, — you  can  believe  I  thought 
a  good  deal  of  Fannie  after  that ! 

"  She  was  with  us  at  New  London,  when  I  was 
cox  on  the  crew,  and  she  had  as  sharp  an  eye 
for  good  rowing,  as  any  man  I  ever  saw.  Some 
times  they  'd  let  me  carry  her  in  the  boat. 
Oh,  every-one  in  New  London  knew  Fannie 
that  year  ! 

"  Well,  one  warm  night  in  October  it  was, — 
Sport  and  I  were  going  over  to  dinner,  and 
we  were  in  a  hurry  and  came  away  from  the 
room,  and  snapped  the  door  to  and  left  Fannie 
shut  up  inside,  by  accident.  When  we  got  down 
in  the  yard,  we  thought  of  her,  but  I  was  too 


306  Yale  Yarns. 

d d  lazy  to  go  back  up  four  flights  for  her 

and  let  her  out. 

"  I  looked  up  at  the  window, — and,  by  Jove ! 
it  had  been  carelessly  left  open,  and  there 
stood  Fan,  looking  down  and  barking, — her 
dear  little  head  on  one  side,  in  the  way  she  had. 

"  Well, — I  think  Waters  unthinkingly  whis 
tled  to  her,  she  saw  us,  and,  good  God  !  she 
gave  a  little  whine  and  jumped  !  We  were 
hurrying  away, — and  you  know  a  dog, — we 
did  n't  see  her  ;  all  we  heard  was  a  dull  thud,— 
and  there  lay  poor  Fannie,  perfectly  still  on  the 
stone  side-walk.  I  picked  her  up  gently ;  she 
was  not  quite  dead,  her  back  broken,  though. 
I  carried  her  upstairs.  I  did  n't  want  any 
dinner  that  night.  I  went  up  to  the  room  and 
laid  her  down  on  the  sofa,  and  I  confess,  I  cried  ! 
Oh,  I  was  a  boy  then,  you  know ! — I  put  my 
arms  around  her,  and,  just  feebly  trying  to  lick 
my  hand  with  her  tongue, — she  died," 

"  That  's  a  nice  yarn  to  tell  to-night  !  "  said 
Aldrich,  gloomily. 

But  Little  Jack  continued  : 

"  When  Sport  Waters  came  in  from  dinner, 
he  looked  at  Fannie, — and  then,  without  a  word, 
he  went  right  out  and  got  on  a  jag.  It  was  his 


Commencement.  307 

way,  poor  Waters,  to  drown  his  feelings.  He 
got  full  the  day  he  was  dropped,  too. 

"  That  night  we  went  out  and  got  a  spade, 
and  wre  secretly  buried  Fannie,  half  a  dozen  of 
us,  at  the  foot  of  an  elm.  Dear  little  dog!  " 

There  was  a  short  silence. 

"  And  I  feel  fellows,  that  that 's  the  way  I  'm 
always  going  to  be  out  in  the  cold  world — too 

d d  selfish  and  lazy  and  careless  all  my  life. 

I  could  n't  even  go  up  and  get  Fannie, — and 
I  'm  blue  as  indigo,  and, — and, — I  wish  I  was 
just  coming  down  from  Andover,  instead  of 
being  on  the  outside  now, — and — and " 

Paige  put  his  arms  around  Little  Jack's  neck 
and  hugged  him. 

"  Great  "  Barrington  said,  sharply  : 

"  Boys, — it 's  too  d n  dismal  out  here  1 

1  'in  going  over  to  the  Club  for  a  little  '  lemon 
ade.  '  Will  you  all  come  along?  " 

And  they  all  followed  him,  for  the  last  time. 

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